Total Duncan Island
by melancolie
Summary: Duncan's point of view for the entirety of TDI.
1. Beginning

**A/N:** This is sort of a preliminary chapter, designed to sort of set you up for the way I analyze Duncan's character. I'm sorry it's so short, I really don't have the time right now to watch the entire first episode.

Also, just another warning: I have some sort of mental illness that spurs me to write about once every... three to five weeks, so updates will be infrequent, and as I reach the end of the story, they will be even LESS frequent. Just bear with me. I will finish this.

So, without any further ado, please enjoy the first chapter of my first series, and feel free to check out any of my other one-shots.

* * *

Duncan was not easily deterred, a fact that most people quickly learned about him. When he wanted something, he stuck to it, no matter what, and he never, ever gave up.

What people didn't seem to get about him was that, despite his criminal record, he was perfectly capable of being kind. He didn't have a heart of stone, or at least, he didn't have a heart of stone all the time. He wasn't a criminal by nature; only in premeditated behavior.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, and should he be completely unbiased, he would actually probably think it a little strange that he planned almost all of his words beforehand, for every possible scenario.

He also loved a challenge, of any sort. He liked mental challenges above all others, because if he couldn't use his brain, what did he have but an empty shell?

And, if he were to sit down and think about it, it explained his attraction to Courtney, right from the beginning. Here was a girl with a stubborn head on her shoulders, a girl just as stubborn as he was.

Of all the girls on the island, Courtney was the only one who wasn't either scary or easily manipulated, and above all else, he was attracted to that single factor.

He would never tell her any of that, though. He liked his reputation, and didn't need to change it for anybody. Of course, he never really thought that if he told her all of this, she would cave right in and go out with him.

That was another thing about her he liked; she was a bundle of surprises. For her, he had to really think on his feet, and that was a challenge he easily overcame. With her, the rebuttals just fell out of him, no matter whether they pertained to the argument or not. Some of the things he said, he later regretted saying, which only made him like her more; she was so clever, she could see right through him.

He remembered his first impression of her when she arrived on Total Drama Island. A stuck-up, know-it-all, bossy sort of girl whose first priority was upholding the law.

'Like my parents.' Duncan thought, then cringed. He immediately made sure to talk to her as little as possible.

How wrong he was.

How very, very wrong he was.


	2. Not So Happy Campers, Part One

**A/N:** Alright. First chapter. I'll be totally honest with you, this chapter is really, really dry. All it does is introduces the characters, gives Duncan's first impressions of a few of them, and I'll be honest, I skipped through at least half of them. You'll get Duncan's first impressions eventually, but for now, what you've got is... this.

But don't worry; Duncan's first impression of Courtney is here. It was my priority in this chapter.

Next chapter will be better, I promise.

One last thing before I let you go: Thank you to all of you who reviewed or Alerted this story so far. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate it. -

* * *

I passed through the metal detector at the airport, and immediately, the alarm went off. Rolling my eyes, I stepped back, and muttered, "Go figure."

I took out my eyebrow ring, nose ring, and earrings, and passed through again, and this time, I was surprised when the alarm went off. The man with the detector wand gave me a dirty look. I smirked, as I was wont to do when causing trouble, and I shrugged. This time, I had as much an idea as he did.

Stepping over, he waved his wand from my face down, and it started to go off… at my waist line.

"Oh, sorry, dude, it's my belt." I said, and removed that, too. After safely getting through the detector that time (third time's the charm), he glared once more before returning to his stationary place at the wall.

Rolling my eyes, I put my piercing back in, and grabbed my carry-on bag. I don't really know why I brought the bag; all that was in there was my mP3 player and headphones.

But I digress.

Earlier that day, I'd said goodbye to my parole officer for what was hopefully the last time. We shook hands; there was none of that, 'It was nice knowing you' crap, because, really, it wasn't that nice. You don't appreciate knowing an officer of the law personally.

I also said goodbye to my parents, though that was, if anything, less heartfelt than saying goodbye to my parole officer. My parents and I weren't on the best of terms. I guess it was because of the fact that I spent more of my time in Juvie than at home.

But, hey! It's not my fault. If they'd ever just disciplined me the way they should have, instead of letting things go, believing I'd grow up to uphold the law like them, maybe all of this could have been avoided.

But, once more, I digress.

The plane trip wasn't that long, or at least, much shorter than I'd anticipated, and I ended up sleeping for the better part of it.

After getting off the plane, I grabbed my things, and exited the gate. Right outside was a guy in jeans and a dark green polo with a sign that said, "Duncan."

So, I walked up to guy, elbowed him gently in the ribs and said, "I assume you mean me?"

The guy apparently had no sense of humor, and stared blankly at me. "Are you Duncan?"

"The one and only." I said proudly. It was true. There was no other Duncan quite like me.

The car ride was short, and we soon arrived at a harbor. I glared. Boats and I aren't friends.

Suddenly, it occurred to me what I've done. I've signed up to be on TV, all summer. People all over Canada will be watching everything I do, and hearing everything I say, and… MIMICKING ME….

All effing summer.

The boat trip was ten times less pleasant after that.

It was about half an hour before I even caught sight of any land, so I stood up and tried my best to look menacing. It worked. The good thing about uni-brows is that most pleasant people don't have them.

We stopped at the dock, and the captain told me to grab my things and jump ashore.

So I picked up my bag and tossed it on the dock, then, despite his calling after me, climbed over the guard rail and jumped, landing next to my things.

Looking around, I noticed several things at once.

One: This so-called "summer camp" was actually just a collection of crappy cabins that looked like they hadn't been used in years and a beach that was so full of garbage that it looked like a dump.

Two: Chris McLean was standing on the dock, giving me a cocky smile.

Three: There were other people, looking very surprised to see me. Or scared. I generally come off as menacing.

"Duncan! Dude!" Chris shouted over the sound of the boat driving away. By the tone of his voice and the look on his face, I quickly understood that Chris knew the camp looked like this. So I scowled, clenched my fist, and said, "I don't like… surprises."

Chris raised an eyebrow and said, "Yea, your parole officer warned me about that, man. He also told me to give him a holler anytime and have you returned to Juvie."

Though I felt like laughing and punching Chris all at once, I merely sniffed, said, "Okay then," and walked over to my fellow campers. There was a short, mousy-looking girl, an airy-looking blonde girl with an enormous chest, an angry looking Asian chick, a tall, darker dude with what looked to me like a yamaka, a very pale girl with teal streaks in her hair, and a tall blonde guy with a cowboy hat.

Passing by the Asian chick, I smirked. "Meet you at the campfire, gorgeous."

To which she harshly responded, "Drop dead, you skeaze."

Dropping my stuff right next to the blonde girl, the Asian chick walked back towards the rest of us, angrily saying, "I'm calling my parents. You can NOT make me stay here."

Smirking, Chris said nothing, but instead, pulled the contracts from out of nowhere, and then there was a noise indicating the arrival of the next camper.

It ended up being some guy wearing a red sweat-suit, water-skiing. Though he didn't wipe out (yet), he looked sort of awkward doing it, like he was having a hard time keeping his balance.

Chris introduced him as Tyler, and then, as luck would have it, he DID wipe out, in a cartoonish, extremely comical manner, rolling over the water several times before hitting the deck, flying into the luggage, and, after sending a suitcase into the water, splashing the Asian chick, who groaned angrily, and said, "My shoes!"

But they went unnoticed as Chris called back, "Wicked wipeout, man!" To which Tyler responded with a thumbs up from inside the luggage pile.

Next to arrive was a stringy, red-headed, dorky-looking kid who was introduced as Harold. The guy brought with him an electric keyboard, for God's sake. Smirking, I immediately determined that he would be my entertainment for the next eight weeks. The thought cheered me up a bit, and made me feel a little less dread.

Then to arrive was a black-haired, laid back looking kind of guy that Chris said was Trent. He brought a guitar. Immediately, I thought, 'Poser.' No guy brings a guitar to a summer camp, unless he was a counselor. Immediately after, though, he walked over to the teal-streaked girl, and smiled. He was open-minded about the "clique" scene, apparently. 'Poser' suddenly seemed judgmental, so I took it back.

Next was another blonde girl, with a surf board. She was pretty, but the second she stepped on land, I noticed that she wasn't very coordinated; for example, nearly whaling all of us in the head with her surf board. And, because nobody saw it coming (here's the part where I get sarcastic), she walked over next to the blonde guy, and they smiled at each other. Go figure.

A Noah, LeShawna, Katie and Sadie, Ezekial, Cody, Eva and Owen later, a tan girl with dark brown hair arrived, and was promptly introduced as Courtney. Giving a small smile, and a self-important, quick, little wave, Chris helped her down off the boat, and before she even stepped foot on land, my judgment was made: she was a stuck-up, snooty kind of girl whose biggest priority was upholding the law. I would never like this girl, no matter how much I tried, because she would forever remind me of my parents.

If I'd known then what I know now, I would have said hello.

Next was the extremely attractive Justin. What I got out of Justin was that he was the kind of guy who immediately made every girl (and, apparently, Owen) in the vicinity drool, and who made a few hits to every other guy's self-esteem. As it turned out, though, he wound up being a decent guy. I still didn't like him, though; he was way too attractive for anyone's own good.

Then came Izzy, who I immediately took to be crazy. After smashing her chin on the deck, Courtney ran over to help her. This was the first thing about Courtney that surprised me; I took her to be the kind of person that only helped people for their own benefit. Apparently, I was wrong.

It didn't mean anything, though. I'd been wrong before.

After Izzy, Chris pulled us all over for the group photo. Unfortunately, before he could take a picture, the dock smashed in, sending us all into the water.

And so began my stay at Total Drama Island.


	3. Not So Happy Campers, Part Two

**A/N:** First and foremost, I would like to thank everyone who's read this story so far, and stuck around to read this chapter. I mean, I would still write if nobody read, for no other reason than just for something to do and a channel for my ideas, but I digress. You guys rock. :3

Another, substantially larger thanks to all of you who reviewed/story alerted/favorite story-ed. Nothing makes me smile more than logging into my e-mail and seeing like, seven e-mails saying, "+ Reviewed Chapter: Total Duncan Island," &c. It makes my day.

I apologize for this taking longer than I intended. I wrote it initially at somewhere around three AM, and when I went back to look at it the next day before posting, I seriously had to ask myself what I'd drunk that night. It was awful. So I had to go back and rewrite. Then I ended up losing it somewhere amongst my other documents, and was too embarassed to ask my sister to help me find it, so I had to re-write AGAIN. P

I also apologize for the next chapter. It's gonna be a few days. I have a boatload of things to do between now and this coming Sunday regarding Halloween and parties for it. So I won't be able to update for... a couple days. But I promise I will write when I can and get it to you, ASAP.

One last note before I set you loose. Several people have asked me if Heather's actually Asian. Truth? I don't know. I read it in a fan-fiction myself. But it makes sense enough. This isn't meant to be racist, but her eyes are different compared to everyone else. Also, her hair is black. Not necessarily a key indicator, but it helps. Question: Does this mean Chris is Asian too?  
Answer: Quite possibly, but not in my TDI world.

Okay, I lied. Last note: Sorry this A/N was so long. P

Alright, let's git'r done!  


* * *

"This… is Camp Wawanakwa; your home for the next eight weeks. The campers sitting around you will be your cabin-mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends. Ya dig?" Chris explained. I don't know what it was about that guy, but everything he said sounded like he was having the time of his life. I couldn't tell if he was being sincere, or if it was just how he acted. God knows I'd never watched anything with him in it.

In response to his words, however, I looked at the stringy red-head, Harold, and immediately denied this possibility. I was not here to make friends. I was here to win this one-hundred thousand dollars, so that the day I turned eighteen, I could leave my parent's house for good. That was the entire reason I did this, the only reason I didn't immediately jump in the water and swim home. It was my motivation, and I was bound and determined to emerge from here the victor.

So, to persuade Harold not to think about getting friendly, I scowled at him, and raised my fist. He looked afraid, then grinned in understanding, so I let it rest, and Chris continued.

"The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest, without getting voted off, will win one-hundred thousand dollars!"

The time had come for me to make my presence known. "Excuse me," I said, approaching Chris. "What will the sleeping arrangements be? Because I'd like to request a bunk under her." I said, pointing at the snooty Asian chick, whose name I'd learned was Heather. She looked shocked, then revolted, and asked, "They're not co-ed, are they?"

"No." Chris replied, as if he were talking to a five year old. "Girls get one side of each cabin, and dudes get the other."

The chesty blonde raised her hand and asked, "Excuse me, Kyle? Can I have a cabin with the lake view since I'm the prettiest?"

That was too much. I almost burst out laughing. 'Did she really just call him Kyle?!'

Through my laughter, I easily passed my judgment: she was the type of girl who didn't need intelligence; she got by solely because she was beautiful, and had everything handed to her.

And, though she was easily the most attractive girl here, she wasn't my type. Don't get me wrong, I loved hot chicks, but I needed a brain to go along with it, and she was obviously severely lacking in that department. I'd rather wake up to someone who could remember my name, at the very least, and she didn't appear to be capable.

She was hot, but she was not for me. Oh well. There were other fish in the sea ('And quite a few other hot girls on this island,' I added as an afterthought).

Chris replied, "Okay, you ARE, but that's not really how it works here. And, it's Chris." He added at the end. I smirked.

Is it wrong that I was glad it didn't work out for her?

The skinnier, tan twin then said, "I HAVE to live with Sadie, or I'll die." The larger one added, "And I'LL break out in hives. It's true." They were so matter-of-fact, I couldn't help but wonder if that had ever happened before. They struck me as the type of people who never really tried being away from each other. They would never survive in the real world, so they made up their own.

All of a sudden, I felt a tug on my hair, so I turned around, and came face-to-face with a deer. Glaring, I pushed the thing away, and turned back around. However, the deer didn't get the hint; it was still gnawing on my hair like grass.

Rolling up my sleeves, I quickly grabbed the deer around the neck, and began pushing my fist against his head.

While all this was happening, teal-streaked girl (Gwen, from what I'd heard) said in an undertone, "This can NOT be happening."

In response, Owen hugged her and Tyler, and said, "Aw, come on, guys! It'll be fun! It's like a big sleepover!"

And while they both looked panicked, Tyler whispered something to Gwen, who looked back over to me and the other campers, maybe wondering who she would be teamed up with.

Gwen seemed, to me, like a pretty solid kind of girl. Maybe a bit pessimistic, but I'd date her. If it weren't for that guy Trent already seemingly attached to her, I'd probably make a move. But that wouldn't be cool, and I don't need any enemies day one.

Then I noticed, while giving the deer a noogie, that she was probably looking at ME with those wide eyes, and immediately changed my mind. I'd definitely leave that one to Trent.

Then, not noticing this entire exchange, Chris jumped in, saying, "Here's the deal! We're gonna split you into two teams. If I call your name out, go stand over there." He pointed one way, then listed, "Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, LeShawna, Justin, and Noah." He smiled. "From this moment on, you are officially known as… The Screaming Gophers!" He said, then tossed them a sign with a gopher in the Fighting Irish pose.

The big, chubby, blonde guy shouted, "Yeah! I'm a gopher! Woo!"

But the skinnier twin called out, "Wait! What about Sadie?"

Chris answered by saying, "The rest of you, over here! Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Izzy, Courtney, Ezekiel, Duncan, Eva, and Harold. Move, move, move, move!"

Sadie clasped her hands together, and said, "But Katie's a gopher! I have to be a gopher!"

Courtney surprised me again by saying, "Sadie, is it? Come on. It'll be okay."

But Sadie wasn't in the mood to be reasoned with. "This is so unfair! I miss you, Katie!"

Katie had tears in her eyes, and replied, "I miss you too!"

Again, Chris ignored this, tossing us a sign, saying, "You guys will officially be known as… The Killer Bass!"

The stringy red-head quietly said, "Awesome! It's like… amazing!"

"Alright, campers." Chris finished smugly. "You and your team will be on camera in all public areas during the competition."

Then there was a loud, "Cut!" from behind a camera, and Chris quickly said, "This is where they show me in the confessional cam, telling you guys that you'll be able to share your private thoughts there, say whatever you want, et cetera, et cetera. Whenever you want. Or just get something off your chest. Then a loud, "And… Action!"

"Alright?" He said conclusively, smiling broadly. "Any questions?" None. "Cool. Let's find your cabins." Another loud, "Cut!" and Chris relaxed.

"Okay, everyone. Follow me! Grab your luggage."

The camera man took his camera and ran off in a completely different direction from where we were headed.

"Chris, man? Where're we going?" Geoff asked for all of us. Because, from what we could tell, the cabins were back over by the camera guy.

"I'm just giving you a little tour of your home for the next eight weeks. Or however long you last until you get voted off." He said, grinning. I rolled my eyes. That guy was definitely enjoying this. No acting required.

While walking, we heard a strange clanking sound, called into question by the snooty Asian.

"What is that SOUND?" She yelled. I wasn't sure, but it seemed like her voice was constantly set to 'loud and angry.' She was hot… but I would never, ever date her. She was way too controlling.

"It sounds like dumb-bells, guys." Tyler pointed out. Now that he mentioned it, he was right. It sounded like a bunch of really heavy barbells were tossed into one bag, and kept hitting each other.

We all turned to look at Eva, who shrugged. "I have to keep in top physical form. You guys got a problem with that?"

She was WAY too defensive for her own good. She would never get a boyfriend going the way she was going.

We quickly toured the island, checking out hiking paths, the inlet where we were allowed to swim, the parts of the forest that were off limits, and the places we should avoid due to "unsafe conditions."

I was curious, but the tour was moving on.

I'd definitely save that for another time.

After the tour around the island, Chris brought us back to camp, where the camera was set up in front of two very crummy-looking cabins. They looked like they'd been standing there for a long time, and like one major storm would knock them over.

"And… Action!"

Chris walked in front of the camera, and said, "Gophers, you're in the East Cabin, Bass, you're in the West!"

Another "Cut," and then Chris said, "Go on, go explore! Make yourselves…" He chuckled in a very foreboding manner, then continued, "at home."

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I accidentally hit somebody. Turning around, I saw that it was the crazy girl.

"Sorry, man." I said hurriedly. She smiled, and waved it off.

"No big deal. Luckily, my chin stopped hurting, or else that might have hurt." She said, then laughed. I raised an eyebrow, and, turning back around, I saw Courtney eyeing me speculatively.

I widened my eyes and glanced quickly upward, as if to ask, "What?" and she turned back around, squinting in what I assumed was confusion.

I cracked my knuckles, and reached the cabin. Taking a side, I opened to door, and saw….

Bunk-beds. I grinned. Bunk-beds? Were they for real? What were we, kindergarteners?

The other Bass boys followed me inside, and Geoff voiced aloud exactly what we all had to have been thinking.

"Bunk-beds? Dude, are we like, children?" But he was grinning enormously. It gave me the impression that he was liking the idea.

"I feel you, man." DJ said, taking Geoff's words literally and looking around anxiously. I got the impression that DJ was a rough-and-tough kind of guy, the type that didn't put up with nonsense and wouldn't stand for being treated like a child, whereas Geoff, with his excited grin, seemed more the type to accept things as the came, and roll with the punches.

"What, bunk-beds too childish for ya?" I teased.

He shook his head. "No way, man. Too tall. I gotta have a lower bunk, if nobody minds."

I looked at Geoff, and his expression mirrored mine; both of us were apparently thinking along the same lines, and those lines were asking, 'Wait, what?'

Then, Tyler, Harold and Ezekiel walked in, and Tyler sighed airily. I exchanged glances with Geoff, and again, we seemed to be sharing a mind.

"What's up, dude?" Geoff asked.

Tyler shook his head. "Nothing, man. No big deal." Then he picked his head up as a thought came to him. "Hey, guys, you know what just occurred to me?"

We all thought for about a second, then shook our heads, so Tyler continued. "The only adult here, so far as we know, is Chris."

This clicked in all of our heads at once. No adults… no chaperones. Essentially, we were free. I grinned. No chaperones meant a free reign; I wouldn't be getting in trouble here, as long as I didn't do anything stupid while the cameras were rolling.

Though I didn't notice at first that he'd left, I heard Geoff outside asking Chris, "Excuse me, Chris? Is there a… chaperone of any kind in this facility?"

Faintly, I heard Chris respond, "You're all sixteen years old. As old as a counselor in training in a regular summer camp. So, other than myself, you'll be unsupervised. You've got a half hour to unpack and meet me back at the main lodge. Starting… now!" Then distant footsteps, which I assumed to be Chris walking away.

Then I heard Geoff shout, "Nice!" as I walked out of the cabin.

Suddenly, an ear piercing scream was heard across the campground from the girl's side of the Gopher lodge. I ran over with the others to find Lindsay standing up on a small stump, staring at a cockroach on the ground. So, doing what any noble sixteen-year-old delinquent would do, I looked around for something sharp and potentially dangerous.

As luck would have it, there was an axe very close by, next to a tree stump and some chopped wood. Running quickly, I grabbed it, powered it up, and ran back.

Upon my return, I saw half of the campers in an uproar over the small, harmless pest, but it didn't matter to me. Suddenly, I was a whole new person, and the feeling rushed through me. Right before swinging the axe down on the cockroach, I had a short flashback to a particular memory from my childhood….

"Duncan! What are you doing?" I barely heard my mom call. Panicking, I shoved my magnifying glass in my pocket, but it was too late; she already saw it.

"Duncan! What have I told you about burning things!" She scolded. I sighed, and rolled my eyes.

"If you don't want to be burned, don't burn other living things." I quoted tonelessly.

She nodded. "Now come on. It's lunchtime."

I stuck my other hand in it's respective pocket, leaving the charred remains of an anthill behind me.

Then I was back at camp, and swung my axe down, hard. The end result was a chip in the floor that Lindsay might, in her stupidity, forget and trip over, and a decapitated cockroach.

There were short comments on what had just happened, and then Tyler walked up to Lindsay, and said, "If you ever see one of those again, just let me know, okay? Cuz, you know, I could do that too."

Looking up, I saw them exchange a strange look, like they'd never seen another human being before. So I scoffed, and said, "They always go for the jocks." Tyler looked at my apologetically, but I just waved. It was totally fine by me. I'd already ruled Lindsay out anyways, on my list of who and who not to get to know. So far, the list of people allowed were Geoff, DJ, Tyler and Gwen. Not a very long list, but hey! Like I said before, I wasn't here for friends, and I would make sure everybody knew that.

I quickly left that cabin and returned to my own, making sure to put the axe back next to the tree stump. On my way back, I saw Courtney staring at me again, and just rolled my eyes. All I knew was that if she didn't stop doing that, I was going to get mad, fast.

Back in the cabin, I quickly unpacked my stuff. I wanted to take a tour of the island, myself; there was so much here that I could tag, you know?

Shoving a can of spray paint into my pocket, and a carving knife into the other, I left the guys and headed straight for the forest. While I walked, I set a quota; I needed to tag at least ten trees with my infamous skull before the half hour was up. I hated this place from the get-go, but I'd be damned before I let somebody else claim this island. This was MY territory.

With that thought in mind, I took the can of paint out of my back pocket and, once I made sure there weren't any cameras around, I started on my first tree.

Tagging was second nature to me by now. At first, it took a while for me to decide what I wanted to be my trademark. I couldn't do anything too crazy, but I didn't want to be too conservative. Most words sounded cliché when I wrote them, but I didn't want to waste hours and hours tagging one thing. It was through this thought process that I chose my trademark; a skull and crossbones. Simple, historical, and easy to draw. A little cliché, but enough that I could deal with it.

I marked about six trees before I heard someone behind me. Pulling my knife out of my pocket, I held it steady in front of my chest. I wouldn't be caught by surprise; I had to be prepared, whether it was a person or a wild animal. Of course, if it were a person, I wouldn't use the knife, but I just wanted to be safe. I didn't have a death wish, or at least, not yet.

As fate would have it, it was Courtney; she stumbled through undergrowth, and almost tripped over a root. I smirked, and wondering what she would do if she got grass-stains on her pants.

Once she saw me, her eyes flicked from my face, and rested on the knife.

I half-expected her to scream, but what she did was the next thing to surprise me. She raised one of her eyebrows, and said, "Really?"

Confused by this, I let out an, "Excuse me?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Come on. You're a delinquent who tags trees and carries a knife everywhere he goes. Are you really THAT predictable?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, and frowned. "I don't carry it around everywhere I go. I just brought it in case of wild animals." Then I gave her a questioning look. "What are you doing here, anyways?"

She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and said, "I was walking down a path, and I heard a weird noise. So I came to investigate." She smirked. "Probably a bad idea on my part. I didn't bring a knife. I could have gotten attacked by a wild animal."

I took her comment in stride. By the tone of her voice, I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic and rude, or sarcastic and trying to be funny. So, I did what I normally do when confronted by an attractive girl: I began to hit on her, despite my earlier promise to myself; I mean, she WAS hot, and we WERE alone.

"If you want, I could go with you. You never know when one might need protection." I said slyly. Oh, man, I was clever. I mentally high-fived myself for that double entendre.

My wit was not lost on her. But she neither freaked out or laughed; she just rolled her eyes, and said, "I think I'll be fine. Besides, it's almost time to go back."

And as if on cue, a loud, obnoxious sound came from all around, and I realized after a few seconds that it was Chris' voice on an intercom, stating quite clearly that it was time to go to the Main Lodge.

She smirked. I nodded.

We walked together back to the cabins, and on the way there, we shared a conversation in which I figured out several more things.

While thinking of another come-on, I stalled for time. "So, why'd you sign up for this?"

Her response was a speech that, I didn't doubt, she had to have had to repeat very often recently. "I thought that winning the one-hundred thousand dollar prize money would be a great advance on college payments."

I raised an eyebrow. Oh. Well, that explained it. "Is that the only reason?" I probed further.

She frowned. "Pretty much. I guess it's also pretty good exposure. I'm running for office one day, and I figure that if people already know me, it would only make advertising easier."

I stared at her in surprise. Good exposure? Was she serious?

She noticed my silence, and looked at me. "What?"

I shook my head, and said, "Uh… good exposure? On a reality show? I'm sorry, but… that's ridiculous."

She shrugged. She hadn't yet learned to hate me, so she didn't think to yell at me, or get flustered and leave. "I suppose you might think that. But why did YOU sign up? Shouldn't you be at home tagging something pointless?"

I smirked. "Ouch. That was a low blow there." Then I sighed. "I only signed up because I didn't have anything better to do this summer. It was this or come across another reason to accidentally get sent to Juvenile Hall, so I chose this." Sometimes my nonchalance scared me, I'll be honest; I didn't care enough about some things. My indifference was ever a thorn in my side.

She thinned her lips and nodded. "I see."

I laughed. "Does that bother you?"

"Not really. I just don't see how you can 'accidentally' get sent to Juvenile Hall." She explained.

I shrugged. "I've been framed more than once. I mean, I was involved, but only so much so that I shouldn't be the one in trouble, but the blame always ends up lying on me."

"So then, why don't you fight about it? Surely you'd be able to get acquitted if you have witnesses to back you up. That's what the point of a trial is." Her tone was dry, and she had this condescending air that felt like she thought she was talking to a child. She sort of came off like a princess in that she seemed to think she was better than me.

Despite this, I shrugged. "My parents would find a way to get me in there anyways. They don't trust me anymore." It was true. I remember at several of my trials, when the judge asked my parents if they wanted me to stay in there, they both said, without even hesitating to think about it, "Yes."

"I can hardly blame them." She said, then immediately her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hands. I looked at her in surprise, and she said, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that, it just sort of… slipped out."

I chuckled. "It's fine. I don't blame them either."

After that, we walked in silence. I never got around to sending her a come-on, but that was fine; it would only shock her more if she got to know me a little bit first, and then I sent one her way. Besides, this was a good way to get to know her, and I decided that I was definitely right when I said she was one of the last people I'd want to get to know. Her responses seemed forced, and she just oozed ego.

However, she did surprise me a little bit. In the beginning, I had a strange feeling she'd want to be a teacher, and apparently, I was wrong.

I also assumed that she would be the prissy, snooty type, and while I wasn't altogether wrong, I wasn't exactly right. She WOULD talk to other people. She just wasn't the nicest person around.

When we arrived back to camp, I saw some of the other campers heading towards the largest cabin of the four or five of them. There, we stood in a line around the two tables. In walked a tall, dark man, who, after taking his place behind a counter, immediately barked, "Listen up! I serve it three times a day, and you will eat it, three times a day! Grab your tray, get your food, and sit your butts down, NOW!"

This guy just oozed the 'Parole Officer' air. I knew, right from the start, that he and I would not rub together well, but I also knew that I didn't want to get on his bad side. Not yet, anyways. Not until after a few challenges, just to make sure he didn't have any say whatsoever about who gets voted off.

Over the course of what I wanted to call a meal, I took note of the interactions. People met, and greeted, and either got along or didn't. I paid attention to all that went on; if I was going to win this thing, I needed to know who would vote for who, and who would vote against who.

But my attention was diverted when Chris walked in, and said, "Welcome to the Main Lodge."

Geoff, who had been staring at his food the entire time, without touching it, said, "Yo, my man, can we order a pizza?"

Following this, he almost had his head cut off when Chef threw a large butcher knife that just missed his cowboy hat.

I took it as a no.

So did everybody else, who returned to their slop with more vigor and less appetite than before, while Chris said, "Your first challenge begins in ONE hour." Then walked out without another word.

The skinnier twin (I had problems figuring out which was which, even though they were on separate teams) immediately asked DJ, "What do you think they'll make us do?"

The mellow DJ answered, "It's our first challenge, how hard can it be?"

An hour later, we figured out just how hard it could be.

Dressed in nothing but swimsuits, we followed Chris up a very steep incline… that just kept inclining.

Once we reached the top and looked over the edge, we all saw at once why the incline continued to go up. We had to be more than several hundred feet above sea level.

The first thing that came to my mind was, 'Why didn't we notice that when we first arrived at the island?' That cliff was substantially taller than the entire island; one would think we would have noticed it before now.

In any case, we learned our first challenge:

Chris, ever-excited over our possible deaths, happily said, "Your first task is to jump off this 1000 foot-high cliff, into the lake."

We all turned to face him, only to see he was smiling.

He could NOT be serious.


	4. Not So Happy Campers, Part Three

**A/N:** Here you are, guys! I decided not to go to the party. I'm not feeling well. I haven't had anywhere near as much me time as I should have had. So I called him up and told him to go on without me. P

Anyhoo, I liked this chapter the most. You'll see why.  
Just for canon's sake, I'm not sure if this is actually when IT happens, but I'm just going to make it so, because nothing in my memory really assures me. Besides, it'll make it was easier for me to write if I make IT happen now.  
Alright?

Alright! So, because I feel the need to say this, big shout outs to everyone who's read this story so far. 170 hits (and counting!) for last chapter, ALONE. ;; You guys really know how to make me happy. Thanks a ton for reading!

And bigger, fluffier thanks go to those of you who've reviewed thus far. Readers know how to make me happy. Reviewers know how to make me glow.

You guys might have noticed that the chapters are getting progressively longer. This is JUST a coincidence. Don't expect the last chapter alone to be novel-length, because, really, it's not going to be. If I had that kind of time and patience, I wouldn't be writing fan-fiction. xD

One more thing before I set you loose on this chapter: The next chapter is going to be different. You know how the challenges are three days apart? Well, what kind of author would I be if I didn't give Duncan's opinions on those three days? The kind that doesn't delve into details so deep that it causes her not to have a social life, THAT'S what kind.

Well, now that that's done, I believe it's time to get this show on the road.

* * *

I looked over the edge of the cliff to the clear blue water down below. It was a very significant drop, and the blue water, tossing and turning, looked foreboding. I had a feeling someone would walk away from this injured. There was a large, white half-circle around the base of the cliff, and about twenty feet from the base was an exponentially smaller white circle.

I wasn't afraid of heights, but there was no way I wanted to jump off that cliff. They wouldn't possibly be visible from up here, but there could be rocks down there, and I didn't want to die. Not just then. There were so many things I hadn't done, places I hadn't gone!

Then Chris began talking. "Okay! Today's challenge is threefold! Your first task is to jump off this one-thousand-foot-high cliff into the lake!" His tone was amused, and I had the strangest feeling our challenge would be difficult. It had been a short time that I'd known Chris, but already, I had a strange feeling he enjoyed watching us put our lives on the line.

However, Bridgette looked calm. "Peace of cake." It seemed like she'd done this before, and considering the fact that she brought a surf-board, I figured she wasn't afraid of water in any way, shape, or form.

Chris interrupted, "If you look down, you will see two target areas. The wider area represents the part of the lake that we have stocked with psychotic," here, he stopped and chuckled, then continued, "man-eating sharks." ...Wait, what?!

I looked at him in shock. SHARKS?! Could he POSSIBLY be serious?! That would kill us all, if the fall itself didn't! Was he crazy?!

But he continued, and continued affirming my theory that he wasn't sane. "Inside that area is a safe zone. That's your target area, which, we're pretty sure, is shark free."

"Excuuuuse me?" LeShawna asked fearfully. She was asking for all of us, because we all were wondering if he was yanking us, or if he was being serious.

However, he carried on like he hadn't heard. "For each member of your team that jumps, and actually... survives, there will be a crate of supplies waiting below. Inside each crate are supplies that you'll need for the second part of the challenge--building a hot tub. The team with the best one gets to have a wicked hot tub party tonight. The losers will be sending someone home. Let's see... Killer Bass! You're up first!"

Bridgette had wandered over to the edge of the cliff, and was staring down towards the water. "Oh. Wow." She sounded less sure of herself, now. "So... who wants to go first?"

Yea effing right. There was no way I'd be the first one to stick my neck out. First law of self-preservation: Do not be the example. I'd gathered that information from an early age. The first to volunteer always ended up the least fortunate.

There were no answers, so Eva repeated the question. "So. Who's up?"

I smirked, and made sure everyone knew it wasn't going to be me. "Lady's first." I said to Courtney. She frowned at me, and the word 'coward,' which she HAD to have been thinking, was written all over her face. I wasn't offended, though; she wasn't exactly volunteering, herself.

Bridgette apparently did not know the first law of self-preservation and said, "Fine! I'll go. It's no big deal. Just an insane cliff dive into a circle of angry sharks." She said, then without another word performed a perfect swan dive right into the center of the safe zone.

Tyler was ecstatic. "She did it! Yea! Yea! I'm next!" He ran back towards the group, turned around, and ran towards the cliff. Shouting, "Cowabunga," he jumped into the water, feet first.

The next thing we heard was a loud, "Clang!" I ran towards the edge, then looked down to see he'd jumped... right onto a buoy.

"Yikes..." I said quietly. That must have hurt.

After that, Geoff jumped with a "Wooohoohoohoo," then Eva with a, "Look out below!" and then I jumped. On my way down, I clutched my hands over my stomach, not making a sound. Any sound that came out of me would have been a moan; the jump made my stomach twist, and I was lucky I didn't throw up. That would have been embarrassing even if we weren't on national TV.

The boat picked us all up together from the safe zone, and we landed back on shore. Watching up the cliff, we just barely made out DJ looking over the edge. Chris approached him, and put something on his head, and DJ walked back towards the groups, then disappeared out of sight.

"He didn't jump." Bridgette said nervously. "Crap, what if all the members of the other team jump? We'll lose!"

"Don't sweat it. I don't think they'll all jump either." Geoff reassured her.

After that, Ezekiel jumped with a "Yeehaw!" Unfortunately, he hit his legs on some rocks that jutted out of the cliff. Fortunately, he landed in the safe zone. The people around me cheered, but I continued clutching my stomach. I still felt a little woozy. But Ezekiel resurfaced, and was fine.

After Ezekiel, Harold jumped. On his way down, he did a split, mid-air (which was, I'll admit, a little bit impressive). Unfortunately for him, he landed on the water like that, and with the surface tension... well, you get the picture. By the sound of his screaming, it couldn't have possibly been pleasant.

After Harold, I saw Courtney approach the edge, and my heart sped up. It wasn't until later that I realized I was really nervous for her. She could have gotten hurt, or even could have died! However, she didn't move. Eventually, she disappeared the same way DJ did, who finally approached the rest of the group.

DJ had a hat on his head in the shape of a chicken. To explain, he said, "Everyone who doesn't jump has to wear one for the rest of the day." He said apologetically. "I'm sorry, guys. I'm terrified of heights. I have been since I was a little kid."

Geoff smiled. "It's alright, big guy. No biggie."

Then we looked back up; Courtney was definitely not jumping.

"She's on her way down, now." DJ explained. "She'll have a hat on, too."

I frowned. There she went, surprising me again. I thought for sure she'd have been competitive enough to jump, but I guess not.

There was a pause, during which nobody could be seen, and then the Wonder twins jumped together. The boat came and picked them up, and when they returned, they were holding hands and smiling.

"Chris put us on the same team!" The thinner one said. They were both very obviously thrilled.

I just rolled my eyes, and then Courtney showed up. We all gave her confused looks, but she just shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Sorry. There was no way I was jumping that." She didn't sound very apologetic, but she was forgiven for now.

After we'd all jumped (or, in two cases, chickened out), it was the Screaming Gophers' turn. We watched them from the ground, and made commentary as we watched LeShawna pick up Heather and throw her in.

"LeShawna just threw Heather in." Geoff said, smiling. We all laughed. Heather wouldn't have jumped on her own anyways. "Heather's NOT going to be happy about that."

After that, LeShawna jumped, then Lindsay, Gwen, Cody, Izzy, and Justin. Of all of them, Justin was the only one that didn't make it in the safe zone, but somehow (and I was pretty sure I knew how), he managed to get one of the sharks to carry him to shore. '_Of course._' I thought dryly. '_He's even got the sharks in love with him, now!_'

The Screaming Gophers that made it down stood apart from us, by about fifteen feet. We weren't a team. We were fighting against each other, this was certain.

Then, we looked up and heard Beth shout, "I'm thorry!"

"She must not have jumped." Courtney said. Her tone sounded pleased. I didn't blame her. This meant we had a chance at winning. And if we lost, she was in the running to get voted off.

After Beth left the picture, Trent jumped. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Gwen put her hand to her mouth. '_She must be nervous._' I thought. '_That's her crush on the line._'

After Trent, Noah came down, and then all that was left was Owen.

"He's not gonna jump." Courtney whispered, only this time, she sounded nervous. If Owen jumped, that meant we would lose, and one of us would get sent home.

Immediately, I made a run-through of everything that had happened so far, and what my chances were of getting voted off. I hadn't done anything that might have hindered our team, unlike DJ and Courtney. Of course, I was scary, and most of these people might not like me based on my appearance.

But I didn't do anything that hurt us so far, so I figured my chances were slim. Not impossible, but slim.

"He's not gonna jump." Geoff said happily, as we watched Owen walk back towards Chris. Then he turned around.

And then, Owen jumped. The splash that came of it was so great that it hit halfway up the cliff, and knocked us all off our feet. Trent and Noah, who were still in the water, landed awkwardly. The boat landed on the water, upturned, and some of the sharks were grounded.

From the top of the cliff, we heard Chris yelling in a microphone, "THE WINNER IS... THE SCREAMING GOPHERS!"

I heard an almost silent moan behind me, and knew it was Courtney. This meant that there was a very, very good chance she was getting voted out, and she knew it.

I felt a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach; I couldn't tell what it was. Pity, maybe? I did feel bad that she might get voted off, but it was more than that. I felt... anxious.

I immediately shrugged it off. Her getting sent home had nothing to do with me. Why should I care? This only meant I had a better chance of winning. It shouldn't bother me in the least.

But as hard as I tried, I couldn't get rid of it. Something in me didn't want her to get sent home. Not yet.

To say I was confused would have been an understatement. But I guess I'll say I was very, very confused. I didn't know this girl. I didn't WANT to know this girl. She was like my parents; strict and law-abiding.

'_No she's not._' My inner voice said. '_You've talked to her already. She's not exactly similar to your parents. She's different._'

'_But she's running for some office when she gets older. She can't be that different if she wants to be involved in law._' I told the voice. Then, I wondered why I bothered to remember that trifle detail, and immediately resolved to forget about it.

After that, my inner-monologue was cut short when I heard Owen say, "I think I lost my bathing suit."

I shuddered at the mental image, and then Chris showed up.

"Congratulations, Screaming Gophers, on your first victory of the game! Too bad, Killer Bass, but better luck next time. Now, here are the crates of supplies, and, Screaming Gophers, as promised, here are your wagons." He smiled as some of the crew brought four crates over to the other team.

"Killer Bass, I'd get pushing if I were you. Clock's'a ticking." Chris said, then with a smug smile, marched off with the rest of the crew.

I sighed, and picked a box. The rest of my team was standing around, looking miserable. "Well, guys?" I yelled at them. "What're you waiting for?"

Later, I found myself kicking that same box towards the camp. It had been an hour, and we could have just barely made it half-way to camp.

The Killer Bass, since they had wagons, were long gone, probably already starting their hot tub, while we were still pushing our way back.

I'll admit it, I was angry. This was torturous, trying to heave my way back to camp because we lost. Not only was it torturous, it was embarrassing. Our team lacked serious effort, and if we wanted to win, that would have to change.

"Ow!" I heard. "I think I just got a splinter!" Upon realizing that it was Courtney, I felt this strange urge to go over and look at it, but I stifled it; it was illogical, and we already lost enough time as it was.

I heard Eva say, "Shut up, and pick up your crate!" Then she must have slammed it back on the ground, because I heard a muted slam and the sound of whatever was in Courtney's box jostle around. She added impatiently, "Chicken."

Courtney had a rebuttal. "Hey! I'm the only one with CIT camping experience here. You need me!" But it sounded less like a rebuttal, and more like an appeal.

Again, that strange mixture of anxiety and pity. '_She can't go home._' My inner voice said frantically. '_She can't be the one to go home._'

I didn't make any effort to subdue the inner voice. From past experience, I knew that wouldn't work out well. However, I did make an effort to ask, '_Why does it matter, anyway? What's she done for me?_'

'_You like her._' The inner voice told me. '_And don't try to deny it, because you know you do._'

'_What?!_' I inner-screamed. '_That's impossible! She's a stuck-up, uptight... law-abider! There's no WAY I could ever like her!_'

The inner voice was quiet, but it left me to deal with my nerves. I didn't like her... right?

* * *

  
After about twenty minutes, Tyler put his crate on the ground and said, "Urgh. I gotta take a wiz." Then walked off to the forest.

Eva chastised him. "Hurry up! We're already behind."

One of the Wonder twins, who were pushing their box together, said, "Ooh, I have to go, too."

The other one said, "You do? Oh my gosh, me too!" Then they abandoned their box and followed Tyler back into the woods.

Raising an eyebrow, I shook my head, and kicked my box one more time, when I heard Courtney say, again, "Ow! I think something just bit me!"

For the third time, nerves and anxiety struck, and again, the urge to go over and take a look almost overwhelmed me. Again, I couldn't subdue any but the latter. So I stood, leaning against my box, my arms crossed over my chest, fists clenched painfully tight.

* * *

  
Tyler came back first, and, after a couple minutes, the Wonder twins came back.

"All better?" Eva asked. One of the two answered, with a happy, "Yup!"

Courtney chimed in, saying, "Can we go now? I think my eye is swelling up."

We began pushing our boxes again, and I kicked mine. In the background, I heard the Wonder twins share a quiet conversation, whispering back and forth. I didn't listen. They didn't need to stop anymore, so whatever they said meant nothing to me.

After a couple more minutes, I heard one of the two shout, "Okay, I HAVE to scratch!" Then the sound of the boxes being pushed got a little bit quieter.

We all stopped pushing when Chris showed up on an ATV, saying, "You guys are WAY behind the other team. Like, WAY behind. What's the problem?"

"Their butts are itchy." Courtney said from behind Chris. Her eye was swollen and pink; it looked awful, but more than that, it looked painful.

"Gah!" Chris shouted, and leaned back. "Oh my boxers, that's bad!"

Then Bridgette walked up to the Wonder twins, smirking. "Did you by any chance squat down when you peed in the woods?" One of them answered affirmatively. "Did you happen to notice what kind of plants you were squatting over?" She continued.

"They were kind of oval-shaped and green, and all over the place."

I smacked my hand to my forehead. Before Bridgette could say, I realized that they had squatted on Poison Ivy.

But Bridgette continued her investigation. "Were they low to the ground? About this big?" She held her hands close together in an oval shape. The twins nodded, and Bridgette said, laughingly, "You guys squatted over Poison Ivy."

Immediately, the twins' eyes widened, and they panicked, whereas Chris, sitting on his parked ATV, laughed. "No way! That's awesome!"

The twins then sat on the ground and started rubbing their butts on the sand, panicking. If I wasn't so irritated, I would have laughed.

Bridgette suggested they sit in the water for a while, which the twins quickly did. Chris then suggested we speed it up, because it was getting late, and we still needed to get the boxes open, and build the hot tub. If we didn't finish before judgment time, the other team would win by default.

Before any of us could get close enough to hit him, he sped off back towards camp, and we began hurrying. Instead of kicking it, I just pushed the box, which was far too heavy to lift. We all took our own box after that, and Courtney had to take a box, despite her eye. I bit my lip, and tried to refrain myself from offering to take her box, too.

* * *

  
Eventually, we made it to camp, where the other team successfully got their box open.

"Finally!" Harold said, setting his box on the ground.

"Hey, what's up guys?" Trent asked. Even though he was on the other team, I liked Trent. He was the kind of guy that got along with everyone, and made an effort to be well-liked.

LeShawna popped out of that box, asking, "Hey, aren't you missing a couple of white girls?"

Courtney rolled her eyes (or, eye, really), and said, "They're getting a drink."

Harold whispered to Ezekiel, and they both snickered.

Then LeShawna caught sight of Courtney's eye. Her expression became horrified. "Ooh, what happened to your eye, girl?"

Courtney's response was quick and nervous. "Nothing! Just... an allergy."

Ezekiel said, "Think it's getting worse."

* * *

  
Then, Geoff climbed on our boxes that we'd pushed together, and said, "Alright, dudes, it's not too late! We can do this!"

However, nobody responded. We all felt hopeless. The other team was already getting started, and we still had to open our boxes, which, according to them, we needed to use our teeth to do. Not to mention the fact that we were missing two boxes, and each box had important supplies. There was no chance we could win this.

On the other side of Geoff, I just barely heard a short conversation, and then Courtney stood up. She didn't even need to speak to get my full attention. She'd honestly had it all along. "Okay, look, guys. We have a hot tub to complete, and we need a project manager. Since I've actually been a CIT before, I'm electing myself. Any objections?"

For someone who had a very good chance of getting voted off, she wasn't doing a very good job appealing to any of the other campers' good sides. '_Except yours._' The inner voice said. I rolled my eyes at myself. I was beginning to get mad. I didn't like her, and I knew I believed that. But how could I convince my inner voice?

'_Well,_' I thought, '_To convince myself of other things, I've been mean cruel, and a little unusual. It's worked in the past, so I guess it should work now._'

That's how it began. From that moment on, I resolved to be mean to Courtney. Taunt her as much as possible. Give her annoying nicknames. Make her miserable. Make her hate me. Vote against her whenever possible.  
I did NOT like her.

Since she had no objections, and I had to make her hate me as much I wish I hated her, I said, "Where do we begin, Cyclops?" I hoped that insulting her would help, but really, I just felt a little bad. That had never happened before; my insults, when used, were always successful in helping me feel better about myself.

However, she wasn't offended in the least, or if she was, she didn't show it. Instead, shoving her finger in my face, she said, "Open the crates." Pointing to Bridgette, she said, "Bridgette? Go find those itchy girls. We need all the help we can get."

I caught myself staring at her, until she looked at me. Then I shook my head quickly, and ran to my crate.

I bit down on one of the corners, and chomped. Nothing happened. Raising an eyebrow, I bit harder. Still, nothing happened.

Then, I noticed that the nail in the corner of the box wasn't nailed all the way in. Using this to my advantage, I bit the nail and pulled. It came out after a bit of tugging, but it was essentially easy. Looking to another corner, I noticed that all the nails on that side were higher than the others. I turned to Tyler, who was biting the box next to mine.

"Hey, Tyler, check out the nails on your box, on all the sides." I told him. "The nails on one side should be taller than the others."

He looked around the perimeter of his box, and found that I was right. "Hey," he said, "You think they all might be like that?"

I shrugged. "Worth a shot." I turned to face the rest of my team. "Hey, guys! Check out all the nails on your boxes. The nails on one side should be a little higher than the box edge."

This proved to be true for the rest of the boxes.

Courtney looked pleased. "Nice find, Duncan!"

When she said my name, my stomach twisted in a knot. My name, which I normally disliked, sounded good from her voice...

No! No, I didn't think that. I hate my name, and I don't like her!

I shrugged. "Whatever." There. That was a good, safe reply, compared to my first instinct: smile at her, and feel proud that I'd gotten her approval.

* * *

  
We quickly found out that of all our boxes, our team was left without nails. I wanted to scream; how would we keep the stupid thing together without nails?!

Geoff suggested we just stack them up next to each other, and we'd cross that bridge when we came to it.

We soon found out that that wouldn't work. It fell apart as soon as they were all stacked up. So we stacked it up again, and Courtney taped them all together. It didn't look any better, but it stood. She held onto the tape while we put water in it, and she taped up any water leaks. We put the heater in, and gently pushed it towards camp, where we saw the other team finished. Compared to ours, the other team's hot tub looked amazing. Like something straight out of a catalogue.

I sighed. We weren't going to win, and we all knew this as soon as the other team saw us.

* * *

  
Later, Chris stood in between the two hot tubs, and walked over to the Screaming Gophers' hot tub first. He looked at it for a minute, then smiled, and said, "This... is an awesome hot tub!"

The other team looked thrilled, and cheered, while Chris walked over to ours. He looked at it for a minute, and poked the heater. A jet of water squirted out and splashed him in the face.

Then the tape stopped holding, and it fell apart.

Chris turned to the camera. "Well, I think we have a winner here. The Screaming Gophers!"

The team collectively cheered, and Chris said, "Gophers! You're safe from elimination. And, you get to rock this awesome hot tub for the rest of the summer! Bonus!" He said, pointing at the camera. The team continued to cheer.

Then, Chris turned to us, frowned, and said, "Killer Bass, what can I say, sucks to be you right now." Then he smiled. "I'll see your sorry butts at the Bonfire tonight."

* * *

  
After the judging, it was time for dinner, so we all headed straight to the Main Lodge. All of the Screaming Gophers were cheerful and upbeat, and they were all kind to each other. But all the Killer Bass were on edge, and alert. We all looked at each other suspiciously. '_Any of these people could be voting against me._' I thought anxiously.

I was second-last in line, in front of Geoff, who, despite the challenge, looked upbeat and optimistic. I remember wishing that I could be that optimistic, but I wasn't going to fool myself into believing that I knew I wouldn't get voted off. It would have been much harder to deal with going home if I'd believed I wouldn't.

I got my food, and looked at my table. There was plenty of space… but more specifically, there was an open seat next to Courtney.

For the first time, I couldn't resist the urge to force myself in her presence. I sat next to her, all the while scolding myself.

'_What are you doing?! This is NOT helping me convince myself I don't like her!_' I yelled at myself. My inner voice smirked.

'_No, it's not. And the fact that you TRIED not to only makes it worse._'

At that point, I gave up yelling at me. My inner voice had too many sarcastic retorts for my tastes.

* * *

  
Once we all were sitting down, one of the Wonder twins said, "So, uh… What do we do now?"

Courtney answered her. "We have to figure out who we're gonna vote off."

I looked at her, and realized that I was smiling. "Well, I think it should be Princess. Or, the brick house here." I said. Immediately, I shouted in my head, ' _'Princess'?! Where the hell did THAT come from?!_' My inner voice smirked, and I told him to shut up.

"What?!" Courtney replied incredulously. And very, very loudly. I wouldn't be hearing out of that ear for a while. Then she quieted down, and said, "Why?!"

"_Because I have an incredibly large crush on you, and I don't want to._" My inner voice said. I ignored him, and instead said, "Because, unless I'm mistaken, you two are the only ones here wearing chicken hats." Then, for no other reason than to drive a wedge in any possible chance that might be left, I said, "And, if we ever have to lift a truck, I like our chances with the big guy."

It was cowardly, I know, but I couldn't look at her. For the first time in a long time, I felt seriously guilty. Really, really guilty. I shouldn't have said that. I should NOT have said that.

Courtney then got nervous. "Y-you guys need me! I-I'm the only one--"

"We know!" Bridgette said, rolling her eyes. "You used to be a real CIT. So who would you pick?" she asked dryly.

Words couldn't express the pang of nerves I felt when she said that. I was really sweating now. I'd successfully turned everyone's vote against Courtney, and I didn't want that.

I didn't want that? What, was I accepting this now?

But Courtney wouldn't go down without a fight. She looked around the table, and said, "What about…" her eyes rested on Tyler, and she pointed to him and said, "Him!"

From the other table, Lindsay shouted, "No!" All eyes turned to her, and she looked shocked. Immediately, she said, "Uhh, I mean… No… salt, there's no salt on the table. Bummer."

But I wouldn't stand for that. There was no reason Tyler should have been voted off. "Hey, hey! At least he jumped off the cliff, chicken wing!"

She shouted at me, "Shut up!"

From out of nowhere, Geoff popped in as a mediator, and said, "Okay! Let's just chill out! It's getting WAY too heavy. "

I needed to think. I needed to get out of there, immediately. Courtney's face was WAY too close to mine for comfort. So I said, "Ahh, I've had enough prison food for one day. I'm gonna go have a nap." So I got up at left.

She shouted after me. "You can't do that! We haven't decided who's going yet!"

The last thing I heard was Ezekiel say, "Well, I just don't get why we lost, eh. They're the one's who have six girls!"

'_That poor guy._' I thought, as I left the cabin. The five girls on our team would not take that sitting down. I wouldn't be surprised if I came back and he was dead.

* * *

  
Contrary to what I'd said, my first stop was not our cabin, but the confessional cam, where I'd heard the voting box was. I had to do it now, before I lost all resolve whatsoever. I had to vote her out now, right now. I wouldn't do it otherwise; I'd wuss out, and vote for someone else.

So I pulled a sheet of paper off the wall, and turned on the camera.

I glared at the camera, and said, "If I don't do this now, I'll lose all my resolve and vote off someone else. It's nothing personal. I just don't want to like you." I told the camera. "You're way too similar to my parents."

Then, I scribbled a name on the paper, and held it over the slot in the voting box. I held my hand there for a full ten seconds, then sighed, and took the paper back. I erased her name, and wrote 'Ezekiel' down instead.

"Looks like it's too late." I told the camera, and put the paper in the box. I turned the camera off, and stepped outside.

'_I'm too late._' I thought solemnly, as I walked towards the cabins. '_It's too late. I like her, alright inner voice? I like her, and it's too late to change my vote now._'

I expected my inner voice to retort with wit and sarcasm, but he just sympathized. '_It's alright, dude. She's not so bad. And hey, getting her to like you back might prove to be a challenge. You'll have fun!_' He offered.

I smiled half-heartedly. That WOULD be fun. But I was still miserable over the fact that I lost. Being a competitive spirit, losing was not something that I handled well, and I spent the rest of the afternoon hoping and praying I'd get voted off.

* * *

  
I don't remember when I fell asleep, but the next thing I remember was Geoff shaking me awake. It wasn't dark in the cabin, but looking outside, I noticed that it was after sunset.

"Come on, dude, it's time for the Bonfire." He said cheerfully. I nodded, and sighed. I pushed my face into the pillow, and groaned. What I wouldn't give to just sit in here and mope all night. I could avoid her, then...

Geoff just punched my arm. "Hey, come on, dude. I talked to most of the others on our team, and I don't think you'll get voted off."

I shook my head. "I'm not worried about that." But him suggesting it definitely made me feel a little less worried. Now all I had to worry about was her getting voted off.

But Geoff was curious. "If it's not getting voted off, what are you worried about, dude?"

I picked up my head, and climbed down from my bunk. I made sure nobody was around, and beckoned him to follow me. On our way down to the Bonfire, I gave him the rap.

Though I half-expected him to laugh, he was perfectly serious. "Hey, man, don't worry about her, okay? I don't think she's getting voted off either. You totally missed the rest of the conversation, but I totally think Ezekiel's getting voted off. You should have heard some of the rest of the stuff he said, dude. He's totally sexist. I mean, I voted him off."

I nodded. "Yea, me too." I sighed, and rubbed my eyes. "But I guess whatever happens, happens."

* * *

  
Later, we found ourselves at the campfire. There weren't any seats open next to Courtney, so I sat two seats away, next to Ezekiel.

I offered him the best advice I knew how to give: criticism. "Dude, you've got a lot to learn about the real world." I told him sharply. Geoff had filled me in on what had been said, and what I'd said was the honest truth. Girls didn't like sexist guys, and he was the epitome of sexist.

Chris then decided it was time to begin. Standing at a podium with a tray of marshmallows in his hand, he said solemnly, "Killer Bass, at camp, marshmallows represent a tasty treat that you enjoy roasting by the fire. At this camp, marshmallows represent life. You've all cast your votes and made your decision. There are only ten marshmallows on this plate." He said, gesturing. "When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, to catch the Boat of Losers. That means that you are out of the contest. And you can't come back. Ever." He finished. I sat in my stool confidently, but nervous. Geoff definitely helped to calm me down, but I still couldn't help but feel that Chris was looking strangely at Courtney.

"The first marshmallow goes to... Geoff." Behind me, Geoff stood up, and walked towards the podium. Chris put the marshmallow on Geoff's stick.

The next to receive a marshmallow was Tyler, who cheered, then the tan twin, Katie, then Bridgette, DJ, Harold, the other twin, Sadie, and then me. I grinned. I trusted Geoff, but it still felt good knowing for sure.

Immediately after I claimed my marshmallow, though, I got nervous. The two remaining were Ezekiel... and Courtney. And, like I just said, I trusted Geoff, but how could I be sure of how many people Geoff talked to?

I then thought of my vote. If I'd voted for Courtney, would that have assured she went home? I immediately felt relieved that I didn't vote for her.

Chris interrupted me, saying, "Campers, this is the final marshmallow of the evening." Then there was a very long, very dramatic pause, during which both remaining campers looked scared. My heart went out to Courtney, and I barely restrained myself from going over there and giving her a hug.

Chris then raised his arm, held it for about three seconds, moved his hand back and forth, tapped his chin, and said, "Courtney."

My relief was instantaneous. It flooded through my body like a chill. '_She's safe,_' I repeated over and over again. '_She's not going home yet._' I exhaled quietly and subtly. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.

I felt a thump on my back, and turned to see Geoff give me a small grin. I smiled quickly back. I immediately made a resolve to thank Geoff somehow. I wouldn't do it outwardly. That was really, really weird. But I had to repay him.

Then I looked to Courtney, who sighed in relief, and, smiling from ear to ear, claimed her marshmallow. Ezekiel on the other hand looked devastated. I felt a little bad for him. The poor guy hadn't done me wrong except to be the only person I could have wanted out.

Chris walked over to him. "Can't say I'm shocked. I saw you picking your nose, dude. Not cool." He said, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

He then gestured to the dock, and said, "Dock of Shame is that way, bro!"

Quickly, Ezekiel got up and left. We all muttered sparse good-byes, even Eva, who'd earlier throttled him. He gave us all half-smiles and said, "Thanks, guys. Er, everyone!" He quickly amended. He added a quick, "Sorry about everything I said, eh. It's just what I grew up to believe, y'know?"

Then he waved, and was gone.

Chris walked over to the rest of us, and said, "The rest of you, enjoy your marshmallows. You're all safe... for tonight." Then he left us on our own.

There was an awkward silence. None of us had anything to say about what had just happened, though I at least didn't regret him going home. And though, after a while, there was a content air, there was also a hint of suspicion. What would the next challenge be? Who would be going home? Who would be our friends, in the future? Who would be our enemies?

Subconsciously, I stood next to Courtney. We were really close, and it became difficult for me not to reach out and touch her somehow. Because of this, I was the first to finish cooking my marshmallow and head back.

"Well, I'm going back to sleep." I said. My tone suggested boredom.

Courtney was shocked. "You're going to sleep already?!"

I shrugged. "I'm an 'early to bed, early to rise' kind of guy. My timer's set on the schedule in Juvie. Why do you care?" I asked suggestively. Was it possible that she was taking an interest in me?

She became defensive. "I don't. I was just curious."

She was, perhaps, a little TOO defensive. However, I really was tired, so I left it at that until morning, and, as soon as I got into my bunk, I fell asleep.


	5. In Which There Are No Challenges

**A/N:** Alrighty, everyone. The next part.  
Now, this one's a little different, I'll admit. There's no challenge in this one. No cameras, save the Confessional Can; this is solely what happens between the first and second challenges, or Duncan's part of it, anyways.

Now, regarding the Confessional Can, I'm going to go ahead and say, first thing, that, to me, the Confessional Can was also a way to shout out to the parents, let them know how things are going. The directors aren't allowed to use them on the show, so they're totally private, except to the parents (and, in Duncan's case, his parole officer).

Another thing. This sort of chapter is going to be between EVERY challenge, UNLESS I get people telling me they didn't care for them, in which case I'll stop. I just enjoy them, because then I can add my own creative flare to it, you know? Sometimes it's hard following canon down to the last detail. xD

Anyways, that's about all I've got for you today. Don't expect the next one for a little bit. Between band practice, homework, and my new-found obsession with the Dark Knight, I don't know how much writing I'll get done. :P  
Regardless, happy reading!

* * *

  
That night, I didn't dream, but, come sunrise, I jerked awake as if from a nightmare. This happened every morning; not because of any dreams I may or may not have had (I stopped having dreams after my first trip to Juvie), but because of the wake-up schedule IN Juvie.

Seven o'clock, every morning, I rose, bright and early, to greet the day. I ate breakfast by eight o'clock, showered by eight-twenty, then realized I had the rest of the day to do as I pleased. In Juvie, we generally did group-effort activities, or went outside.

When I was out of Juvie, I walked a lot.

Being my age, I had an awful lot of things to contemplate, and most of it regarded the future; because of my police record, I would have difficulties getting a job, or even getting into college. I never regretted doing anything to get me into Juvie, but I couldn't help wishing that jobs didn't look into that kind of thing.

After I showered, I was starving; Chef didn't start serving breakfast until nine (which was around the time the other campers started waking up), and, since I started my shower early, I had plenty of time to wait.

So I decided to go for a walk; it was early, and early generally meant chilly, even in the summer. Chilly weather, in my opinion, was the best weather. It was just cold enough to keep your mind alert, but not so cold as to be a hindrance.

While I walked, I turned on my mP3 player, and turned on any random song. It wound up being something by the Beatles.

I surprised a lot of people when they learned that the Beatles was a particular favorite of mine. I didn't really blame them. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I saw 'Children of Bodom' or 'Behemoth,' not 'The Beatles' or 'Muse.'

Humming along to "Happiness is a Warm Gun," I took a quick walk halfway around the lake, then stopped. From the other side, Camp Wawanakwa looked almost pleasant, but, since I was able to give a biased opinion, I figured that it was all in the lighting.

I sat down by the water, and picked up a stone. It was small, and flat, and perfectly round. I smiled at it. For some strange reason, it's perfect edges reminded me of Courtney. Upon realizing that, I instantly put the stone back on the ground.

'No,' I chided myself; my thought voice sounded angry. 'I thought we agreed; you wouldn't think about her unless she was around,' it told me, as if I were a child.

The inner voice from yesterday was ready with a rebuttal; 'Look, we already decided that you like her. There's nothing wrong with that, it happens ALL the time, to everybody! Look at Trent! Look at Geoff! They're already crushing, and we've barely been here three days!'

But I wouldn't have that. 'It clashes with my image!'

'Bah!' the inner voice scoffed. 'Your image? Please. We both know that you only keep that image to intimidate people.'

I didn't have a reply to that; inner voice was right, and we both knew it. But I didn't want to agree; I had come to terms with it, unwillingly; I didn't want to start thinking about her frequently, too. I barely knew her!

'That's never stopped you before. Just accept it. You'll be happier if you do.' Inner voice said quietly. He sounded like he was walking away.

Again, it was right. Knowing or not knowing a girl hasn't stopped me before, but with all the time spent in Juvie, I'd had a lot of time to think about it. My conclusion was that every one of those girls was a mistake, and, while I didn't regret doing any of the things I'd done, my proudest moment was saying no....

* * *

  
"_Duncan, what are you doing?" She asked, in an annoying, shrieking voice. I didn't actually like her, nobody did. But she would sleep with anybody, for the very reason I would have slept with her; nobody liked her. We all knew it. So she overcompensated by being... well, a slut._

_As it were, this occurred to me right as I was about to take my pants off: I didn't want to have anything to do with her. She didn't like me, and the feeling was mutual. We weren't doing this for any other reason than just to have it done. We would never mention it again. And that didn't sound very productive at all, did it?_

_So, I got off the bed, and put my shirt back on. "I'm going home." I said in response to her question. She looked at me incredulously._

"_What? Why?!"_

_I sighed. "Because we don't like each other."_

_She scoffed. "Oh, don't tell me the infamous Duncan suddenly needs an attachment to have sex."_

_I shook my head. "Not an attachment. Just a feeling." I said, and without saying anything else, I left her bedroom, navigated my way through the ongoing party downstairs towards the door, and went home. _

_After I'd gotten there, I immediately went into my room, put something metal in my CD player, and I had a long, hard think about my life. I evaluated things I'd done, and things I wanted to do, and things I would never be able to do. I resolved, right there, that I would stop making trouble. I would stop getting sent to Juvie. I would go to school, study, be the kid my parents wanted me to have been. I'd make something of myself, and fix this thing I'd been living that hadn't really been a life._

_As it were, my parents came home, noticed that I'd been drinking, and sent me right back to Juvie. But the very next day, I had a long talk with my parole officer. I told him everything that had happened last night, down to the very last detail and my very last thought._

_He suggested that I try Camp Wawanakwa; he'd heard about it through his daughter's friends, and he thought that being around other teenagers (whose criminal records I wasn't competing with) might be a good learning experience for me._

_I agreed because I found that I'd have nothing better to do this summer, especially not if I was bound to keep out of trouble._

_So, together, we got permission to film my audition tape, and a few weeks later (only days before I was to be released from Juvie), I got my letter saying what to do and when to have it done._

_

* * *

_  
I smiled at the memory, remembering how all of that had worked out.

I was actually able to stop making trouble, for the most part. Tagging things and antagonizing people would forever be a part of me; I'd been doing it for so long that it was just integrated in my blood. The words were in my head, and suddenly, they'd be out of my mouth; the spray paint would be in my pocket, then suddenly, on every relatively flat surface within arm's reach.

But I wasn't causing major trouble, and I could be proud of that much.

* * *

  
It was also right in saying that accepting my feelings for Courtney would make me happier, and it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

For starters, I'd stop arguing with myself. 'Which would make you sound less crazy.' Inner voice said. I rolled my eyes.

Plus, it would keep me otherwise occupied over the summer. Getting her to like me back would be tricky, and require a lot of manipulation on my part. A lot of manipulation and a lot of luck, and a LOT of admitting things I'd prefer to keep to myself.

As it were, I sat by the river, picking up the stone and mindlessly twisting it around in my hand, when my stomach growled, loudly. I turned my music off, and stood up, stretching. I felt good. Really good. Something about having time to myself always calmed me down; it always had. I was always mellow in the morning, after sleeping in a cell to myself all night. But come dinnertime, I was a short fuse, quick to snap and ready to argue.

I looked at the stone one last time. It's perfectly round edges reminded me exactly of Courtney. Not a rough edge to be found. Utterly perfect.

I sighed, and skipped the stone. It skipped eight times, then fell under the water, leaving nothing but ripples that slowly faded, and then all memory of that rock was at the bottom of the lake.

Looking down at the ground, I saw a rock right next where I'd just picked the first one up. There, I saw another perfectly flat rock, only this one had sharp, jagged edges. I tossed it in my hand a few times, then skipped it.

It skipped five times, then fell under. The irony was almost too much for me, and I chuckled.

Then, once more, my stomach growled, and I sighed, and started walking back the way I came. My footprints in the dew from before were just barely noticeable now.

* * *

  
I returned to camp by eight forty-two. Chef was starting breakfast, and already a couple campers were making their way to the showers, or to the Main Lodge. I headed back to my cabin first, and put my mP3 player away; I didn't want to run any risk of losing it, because, if I didn't win, I wasn't getting another one for a while.

After that, I met up with Geoff and DJ, and we headed over to the Main Lodge with the others. I took a quick scan of the room; I told myself it was because I wanted to see what was for breakfast, but my first reasoning had been to see if Courtney was here. She wasn't, yet, and I couldn't tell what we were having for breakfast.

The three of us stood in line for a short time before Courtney and Bridgette came in and stood behind us. Geoff, who had yesterday confessed to having taken a liking to Bridgette, immediately initiated a conversation.

"So, what do you think our next challenge is gonna be?" He asked, directing his attention immediately to Bridgette, who shrugged.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling we're not going to like it, whatever it is." She replied logically. I could see why Geoff liked Bridgette; she wasn't downright gorgeous, but she had the natural kind of pretty that didn't require make-up. And she was smart, and tactical. She was kind of clumsy on land, though, and, he'd explained it to me, that was kind of endearing to him.

I chuckled. "Anybody else but me get the feeling that he's kind of cynical? I think he enjoys watching stuff like this." I pointed out.

Courtney shrugged. "It's probably way more interesting than anything else he's ever done."

Geoff nodded. "That's true."

I shrugged. "I've never watched anything of his, so I really wouldn't know."

By that point, it was our turn to get food. Picking up a tray, DJ was the first to be served. At first glance, I couldn't tell what it was, but upon further examination after I looked at my food, I discovered that whatever it was, it slightly resembled burnt eggs and toast. I frowned at it, and we all sat down on the same side of the table, me at the edge, then Geoff, then DJ.

I'd just picked up a fork when I heard Bridgette say to Courtney, quietly, "Where do you want to sit?" I glanced up quickly to see Courtney shrug, and she ended up sitting across the table from me, Bridgette (to Geoff's delight), right next to her.

It took all I could not to grin at this new development. I wasn't sure if she'd done it on purpose, or just because it was the first place to sit, but she could have sat anywhere else....

However, for the most part, we remained silent while we ate, until I heard a grumble across the table from me. I knew it was Courtney, so I smirked.

"Food not to your liking, Princess?" I teased.

She raised an eyebrow at me, and said, "What, are you saying you like this stuff?"

I shrugged, and kept a smirk on my face. "You get used to it after so long in Juvie."

She made no other remark; just rolled her eyes. I smiled, and continued eating.

I noticed, as the meal went on, that my thoughts were muddled with her around. I kept trying to focus, to think on the future, on what we were doing next, but every time I started to focus, she would move, or clear her throat as if about to speak, and my focus would be on her.

Then nothing would happen, and I would feel like a fool for having wasted my time.

Overall, the Bass table was the quieter of the two tables; the Screaming Gopher's were all rather upbeat, delighted over the first win of the game, whereas we were a little panicked; we couldn't win the first one. Did we have the guts to win the next one? Would we win any at all?

* * *

  
After breakfast, everybody pretty much scattered. I tried to pay attention to what Courtney ended up doing, but I lost her, so I went back to my cabin, grabbed my mP3 player again, and went for a walk in the woods.

Not really in the mood to listen to anything in particular, I skipped around a bit and landed on "Hatredcopter" by Dethklok. They were a good band, especially for it having been a TV show first.

I wandered around the paths in the woods for a while before my legs got a little tired. Deciding to rest, I climbed up to the first branch of a nearby tree, and reclined against the trunk. One leg dangled over the edge; the other laid gently on the branch.

I didn't realize how comfortable I was until I fell asleep. In the tree, I dreamed a strange dream.

* * *

  
I was walking through the very same path, and I came across myself in the tree. Poking myself in the leg with a stick, I woke myself up and the other me jumped down from the tree.

Only whoever it was didn't look much like me. It was a younger me, without any piercings, and regular, flat black hair. The younger me looked at the normal me with wide eyes.

"What's to become of me?" the younger me asked fearfully.

I shook my head. "We have to wait and see; I don't know yet. I don't know how being here will affect us in the future. I don't know where we're going later. I don't know what I'm doing."

The younger me looked at me through squinted eyes. "It's all your fault. You should have had a plan. You should have thought about all this earlier. What were you doing?!"

I became angry, and I yelled at my younger self, "Hey, don't blame me! We had problems, but now we've worked through it! So stop blaming me, because it's not my fault!"

* * *

  
Suddenly, I jerked awake in the tree, due to a particularly loud guitar intro to a song. I shook my head, and closed my eyes again.

But I couldn't keep them closed. I don't know how, or why, but something told me to open my eyes. Doing so, I looked at the ground, and down the pathway. I saw someone coming, and I figured that, somehow, I'd sensed this person coming, and couldn't make myself comfortable until I knew who it was. So, I investigated further.

Once I figured out who it was, I sighed. Because of course it had to be her. That's how my luck worked; when I wanted to be near her, she was occupied, or the seats next to her were taken, or whatever. But when I wanted to be alone, she had to come find me.

However, I wasn't averse to the company; quite the contrary. My smile reached across my face, I was sure; I knew she couldn't see me, so I made sure to shake the smile off, waited for her to pass my tree, and then quietly climb down.

So, taking care to lean casually against a tree, I said loudly, "Hey, Princess. Come here often?"

She must have jumped six feet in the air, before turning around to look at me. She frowned. "Were you following me?!"

I shook my head. "Nope. I was sitting in a tree when you happened to pass by. And I thought, 'Hey! Why not drop in?'" I smirked.

She glared, now. "And scare the crap out of me in the process, right?"

I laughed. "Now that was just an added bonus."

She rolled her eyes, turned back, and started walking. "Whatever."

'She had to know,' I thought. 'She has to know that I'm going to follow her.' I waited two seconds before running after her, saying, "So, where you goin' Princess? You have a date or something?"

She scoffed. "No, I do not have a date. I'm walking around in the woods. I'm perfectly entitled to walk around wherever I want." Then she frowned, and her tone changed. "And do you have to call me 'Princess?' It's sort of annoying."

I smiled. She was so cute when she was telling me off, I noticed. "Sure, you're perfectly entitled... but what happens if you come across a wild animal?"

"You mean, like you?" She said tonelessly, walking faster.

I laughed again. "Zing!" I let that one sit for a minute, then got serious. "But honestly, did you bring anything to use to protect yourself?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duncan, what are the chances of being attacked in the middle of the day? I did research before coming here; most of the animals on this island only come out at night, and the ones that are out during the day are the ones that eat plants." She was talking to me like all of this was obvious.

I frowned. It didn't matter if she did research; she must not have learned enough to know that animals frequently broke their sleeping patterns. "Still, I don't like the idea of you walking around unprotected."

A crease formed between her eyebrows; I learned that that was her confused expression. "Do you really care that much?"

With that question, I realized how much of my feelings I'd expressed--too much, too early. So, instead of giving her an answer that made me out to be even more caring than I wanted her to know I could be (for right now), I smirked, and said, "Well, yea. If you die, I won't be able to see your face when you get voted off."

She made a loud sound of indignation. "You're such a jerk, Duncan!" Then stalked off angrily. As much as I would have loved to, I didn't follow her. Instead, I walked backwards a few steps, watching her recede down the path with a large, goofy grin on my face, then I turned around and headed back to camp, feeling a strange mixture of benevolence, guilt, regret, and anxiety.

It felt good to have talked to her, but I felt guilty for saying what I'd said. I regret having left her to walk in the forest, alone, unprotected, and for that same reason, I felt unbelievably anxious.

But by the time this occurred to me, I was back at camp, and it would have been too far for me to try and find her. So, to make sure I knew she got out of the woods safely, I resigned myself to sitting outside my cabin door.

I sat there for a very long, very anxious hour before I finally saw her come out of the woods. Once she did, I pretended to have otherwise been engaged in carving my skull on the wall next to my cabin door. She took one look at me, glared, stuck her nose up in the air, and walked away.

It stung a little, but I knew I deserved it, and besides, the sting was washed out almost immediately with relief. 'She's safe.' I repeated in my head like a mantra. 'She's still safe.'

* * *

  
Lunch was a little less tense compared to breakfast. People were talking, and openly wondered what and when our next challenge would be. Some people voiced aloud their opinions, or possibilities. Some people got into arguments. There was a little bit of food thrown, but that was quickly ended by Chef, who, we learned, would have to clean it up later.

After lunch, there was another break in which people did whatever they wanted.

I decided to haunt the Confession Can.

* * *

  
I looked around to make sure nobody was around before subtly sliding in. I sighed, and turned the camera on.

"Well, it's only been a day or two here. Already, I'm incredibly bored. Officer O'Reilly, you were totally wrong when you told me this place might be 'fun.' I've yet to do something that even resembled fun." I sighed. "But I have already sort of gotten myself... involved. I've made a couple friends, you know? So I guess that's alright."

I smiled. "Some of these people, though. God, I would love to see them last one day in Juvie. Like... Heather, for example. Now here's this Queen-Bee type personality, you know? Snobby, selfish, self-centered. But she's a force to be reckoned with, I can tell. She just gives off that air, you know? I would love to see how she would do."

I laughed, then. "Or Owen! He's this dude, kinda chubby, but outwardly friendly, to everyone. I could see him getting roped into doing something he didn't want to do, and accidentally blabbing about it."

Then I got serious. "Or Courtney. She's the up-tight, law-abiding person that would have a break-down upon arrival." I smiled a goofy smile. "She would own that place after a day, I guarantee."

Then I shook my head, relieving my expression of all goofiness. "But seriously, Officer, I'm not having a bad time yet. Boring, yea, but it's alright." I waved at the camera. "I hope things are good at the detention center. I guess I'll see you after I win."

Then I turned the camera off, and stepped out. I jumped upon seeing Courtney, who looked taken aback.

That lasted about one second, though, and then she glared. "Ogre." She said dryly, as if she were looking at something that displeased her..

I smirked. "Princess." I then motioned to the Confession Cam, and held the door open. She glared at me, but stepped inside.

Okay, I admit, I had to eavesdrop. I knew that expression about eavesdropping (something about how they never heard a good thing), but I really couldn't help it; I had to know what she would say about me, because she definitely would, especially with that greeting just now.

After about a minute, I heard her let out a heavy sigh, and say, "Well, Mom and Dad, it's only been a couple of days, and already I've made some friends, and... well, I don't want to go so far as to say 'enemy...' but I really dislike him. His name's Duncan, he's the green-haired guy with facial piercings? You know the one."

"Well, apart from looking like a hooligan--" My mind started to race after that, and I thought I cracked a rib trying not to laugh. 'Did she say hooligan? Seriously?!'

Then I realized that I was missing some stuff, and I had to refocus. "--seriously, what is he going to DO in life?! I heard from Bridgette that he's supposedly a serious criminal. Are they allowed to let him here?! Wouldn't his parole officer be mad, or something?"

"Anyways, apart from that minor grievance, I'm not having a terrible time. I've made a couple friends from my team, and the other team isn't so bad. They're at least not rubbing their win in our faces. Or at least, most of them aren't. There's Heather who's been kind of obnoxious about it, but apart from her, all's been well."

"Well, Mom and Dad, I think it's time I got going. Bridgette and I are going to swim. I love you!" She said, and I knew she was turning the camera off, and I heard the door open.

"By the bye, I'm on parole right now." I told her from the side of the shed. She jumped, and glared daggers at me.

"You were listening to me?!" She hissed. I knew, from her expression, that this slip-up earned me a LOT of negative points in her inner-points-ledger. But her expression was worth it; it gained at least a million in MY imaginary points-ledger.

I smirked. "Oh, come on. You couldn't expect anything less from this minor grievance." Then I gave her a serious smile to show her that I had no hard feelings.

Unfortunately for me and my goal for the summer, she did. "You... you..." She seemed to be so angry at me that she couldn't even put together an insult. So, to make up for it, she stepped up to me and slapped me clear across the face.

I didn't see that coming. I looked at her through wide eyes, and said, "Ow! You know, that REALLY hurt!" And it did! I hadn't had time to prepare myself for her assault, so the surprise was most of the pain.

But she was relentless. "Good! Maybe you won't eavesdrop on me next time!" Have I mentioned how much I liked her when she was angry? It was like being around a little boy who fashioned himself a soldier.

I smirked, and rocked onto the tips of my feet, then onto my heels. "Maybe."

She let out her classic indignant noise, and said, "Ogre!" Then stomped off back to camp.

I smiled, and called, "Oh, Princess!"

She turned around and said, "What?!"

And because I was a masochist determined to fail, I said, "Have fun swimming!"

She screamed. I smiled, watching her stomp away, seething. It was cute, really; besides serious slaps to the face, and (I would learn in the future) knees to the place that knees don't belong, she was essentially harmless. Everything she said with intentions to hurt me only endeared her to me more. She would lose, no matter how this went. Every time she denied me, I would only redouble my efforts to have her. And once I finally got her, well, then, I'd be the King of the world, and she would be my Queen.

But until then, I had the thrill of the chase to deal with, and what a thrill it'd been so far!

* * *

  
At dinner, I only had more opportunities to drive that stake right through. She was complaining again about the food, and I offered to ask Chef to make something else.

"Of course, he might just poison you, and I've told you how I felt about you dying too early." I said with a casual wink.

After that, she stood up, dumped her tray, and without a word to anybody else (except the usual, "Ogre!" to me), she left, glaring the entire time.

I smiled, and shook my head. Geoff was staring at me strangely.

"Dude, you know you're not going to make her like you by making her hate you, right?" He asked cautiously.

I looked at him, feigning shock. "Oh my God, really?! Crap!" Then I shook my head grinning. "No, dude, I know. Don't worry; I've got a plan."

He shrugged, and shook his head, and said, "Alright, dude, whatever makes you happy."

* * *

  
After that, I sat down by the lake, staring at the water. It wasn't normal for me, but nobody called me on it; everybody seemed to be hanging out wherever, all together, so I sat by myself and had another long think.

And, because that's how stupid teenage clichés worked, I was thinking about her again.

God, the affect she had on me! My head spun trying to conceive how and why she affected me the way she did. I figured that it was just everything I found attractive in a girl. Or maybe I was jealous of how easy she made being 'good' look.

No.

No, that definitely wasn't it.

With all the thoughts I'd had about her, ranging from 'wouldn't mention it at dinner' to 'would never voice aloud, ever,' I definitely didn't want to associate her with 'good.'

Unless, and this was the weirdest part, she was around. It was like she sent off this 'good' aura, and everyone within a certain radius felt that they wanted to be as perfect as she was; it invaded my brain, altered my essence, and made me someone different.

And, hey, I wasn't complaining; obviously, I enjoyed being in her presence. She made me happy. She made me feel... good. In a good kind of way; in a 'save kittens' and 'free Willy' kind of way.

I heard a noise behind me, and smirked. I turned around, and, surprise, surprise, there was Courtney.

I stood up, looking surprised. "Princess! My oh my! To what honor may I accept your company?" I asked, giving a low, sarcastic bow.

She rolled her eyes. "Shove it. I just heard that our next challenge is going to be day after tomorrow."

I smirked. "And why are you telling me this? Why not just wait for Geoff or someone else to tell me?"

She blushed, faintly. It made my heart speed up. "Because Geoff would have probably forgotten by the time you got back, anyways."

That wasn't a rational enough reason, and I was certain she knew I saw right through that. Sure, Geoff might have forgotten... but she still didn't HAVE to come hunt me down and tell me.

However, I let her off the hook. Only because I didn't think I could stand hearing another one of her lame excuses without laughing out of pure joy, and looking like a crazy person. "Whatever." Then I shrugged, and said, "Do you know what the challenge is going to be?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Just that we've got to more days." I nodded, and thanked her.

She nodded, then subtly tried to ask what had to have been on her mind the entire time. "So, what are you DOING out here, anyways?"

I smirked. "Thinking."

She looked surprised. "Oh, wow! I thought that sort of mental capacity was beyond you, Ogre! Well done!" Then she turned and walked away.

I was stunned. I wasn't offended (especially not if she was using that pet name), but I was surprised that she was actually able to harbor thoughts like that. Still, I deserved it, and I shouted at her as much.

She laughed tonelessly, and shouted her response. "Ya think?"

After that, I was in too good a mood to sit around by myself, and I went back to camp to join Geoff, DJ and Harold in a board game of some sort.

That night, I fell asleep a little late. I'd ended up thinking about everything that had happened today; how many times we'd encountered one another.  
Then I resolved to leave her alone the next two days, let her cool off a bit over all of this, and with that rather depressing thought, I fell asleep.

* * *

  
The next two days were rather difficult. Admitting that I liked her was a challenge; staying away from her now that I knew that was altogether impossible.

Still, I managed to do my best. At breakfast, I looked at her enough to know that the first day she openly glared at me. At lunch, she glared between bites, and at dinner, barely looked at me at all, unless I spoke, in which case she didn't glare, but looked more confused.

The second day, she didn't acknowledge me at all. That was good enough for now. We'd play cold shoulder, and she would win, because I would have to acknowledge her first. I'd go as long as I could, but at some point, I'd have to contact her somehow. Nod at her, apologize, do something; being ignored drove me crazy.

Around nine-thirty of the second night, I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and she walked in, carrying her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and a few other things. We didn't talk the whole time. I carried on brushing my teeth and cleaning my piercings gently while she brushed her hair carefully, diligently, and brushed her teeth with just as much caution.

As it were, I finished first, and on my way out, without even thinking about it, I said, "Good night, Courtney."

Surprised (or maybe just as glad to break the ice as I was), she said, "Good night, Duncan."

I fell asleep quickly, and, I'll admit, very happily that night. That split second of acknowledgement would be enough to get me through a day at least. I could do this.

I wouldn't talk to her tomorrow. That would ruin the entire thing.


	6. The Big Sleep

**A/N: **Hey, people. I'm sick today. :( I feel awful. Stomach aches, and head aches, and dizziness and everything. It sucks.

But it also means that I was able to get this one done! :) So, without further ado, I would like to send out my regular shout outs:  
To my readers: You're the people for whom I wake up in the morning. :)  
To my reviewers/Story Alerters: You're the reason I keep on living.

Another thing. I started watching ahead in the series, and, I'll be honest, you guys have NO idea how excited I am to get to some of the upcoming episodes, ESPECIALLY... well, I'll tell you when I get there. :P  
But some of these episodes are just choc full of Duncan/Courtney moments, and I'm literally itching to get there.  
I mean, I'm still going to do my "in-between challenges" chapters... they're just not going to have my utmost attention until... later. :P

One last thing: I'll be honest, this chapter was difficult. It's so much easier to write a story with occasional "and suddenly, he closed his eyes and fell asleep." or something to that effect; obviously, this being the Awake-a-thon, that doesn't happen.  
Now, trust me, I know what it's like to be awake for days at a time, but it's hard to write about because it's hard to remember things after a certain time.  
So, I'll just go ahead and finish this Author's Note by saying that this chapter... it's not great. xD

One more thing: Apparently, the horizontal ruler isn't going to work, so I'm sorry for the lousy format. :(

Chapter Start:

Just as I woke up, a loud sound, similar to that of a blow-horn, sounded right outside my cabin. I heard the other guys groan; they weren't accustomed to waking up this early. It was my advantage here; generally, by this time, I was awake and beginning my day. It was one of the few things I hoped to take with me from my childhood to adulthood.

"It's too early." Geoff mumbled. From his bunk, he glared at me. "Duncan, dude, how are you so awake already? I can hardly function before ten a.m., and here you are, up and kicking."

Au contraire, my friend. It's perfectly early. Early enough so that none of the day is wasted. But I wouldn't tell him that, it sounded weird. "This is what time they woke us up in Juvie. It's why I go to sleep early, too." I shrugged. "I'm just used to it."

The other guys groaned, and, after I jumped down from my bunk and stretched, slowly shuffled out of their beds and into their clothes. I glanced over at Ezekiel's left-over bunk, and felt something resembling determination. '_One down, twenty to go._' The inner-voice told me. It was nice to know that it was on my side for this, if nothing else.

I was dressed quickly, but I was afraid to go outside. If I was going to be avoiding Courtney, it would be best if I literally avoided Courtney. Being near her would have made not talking to her impossible; I'd proved that to myself last night. I couldn't be near her without talking to her. So I just had to avoid being near her.

I could do that. It would be totally easy.

However, once all the guys were out of the cabin, I sighed, and, having no more excuse to stay inside, I shuffled outside, and put on my best menacing face. I could get away with being grouchy; nobody but the guys on my team knew about my being an early bird. Besides, most of the people here tended to shy away from me anyways.

As it were, she ended up half the line down from me, so I didn't have anything to worry about.

"Morning!" Chris shouted jovially down the sleepy, half-dead line of campers. "Hope you slept well!"

Heather, acting superbly as a suck-up (or maybe she just acted nicest in the morning, I couldn't tell), said, "Hi, Chris! You look really buff in those shorts."

"I know!" He said, winking and pointing at her. Changing the subject, he said, "Okay. I hope you're all ready because your next challenge begins in one minute!" He informed us cheerfully.

Owen jumped in, sounding confused. "Oh, excuse me. I don't know if that's enough time to eat breakfast."

Chris just smiled. "Oh, you'll get breakfast, Owen. Right after you complete your twenty kilometer run around the lake!" He said, pointing us in the right direction.

Eva, talking loudly mainly because she couldn't hear herself over her loud music, said, "Oh, so you're funny now! You know what I think would be funny--" She started advancing towards Chris, fist clenched and raised, so together, Geoff and I ran forward to restrain her. It wouldn't do to have her eliminated already, or worse; get us disqualified.

Courtney walked over, and whispered, "Eva! Try to control your temper!"

Eva scowled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?!"

Chris didn't see the danger signs, and said, "A little." Then he pointed to his watch and, continuing to defy Eva's scowl, said, "You have thirty seconds."

We then took a short walk, and assembled in a line near the lake. Chris grinned. "Ten seconds..."

Then the camera's came on again, and he said, "Okay, runners! On your marks... get set... GO!"

I started running along with half of the other campers. Courtney, I found, was taking her time. That was good. Not only was it good for me, because it meant that I would run the majority of this race by myself, but it also meant that she was being practical, and pacing herself. I wouldn't have to worry about her collapsing in the middle of the forest and get dragged off by bears, or suffocate, or--

'_Duncan, stop!_' The inner voice warned. '_If you keep thinking about it, those nagging thoughts are just going to slow you down. Focus on your breathing. Don't think about anything else. Come on, with me: Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._'

I was starting to really like the inner voice. It seemed to know what was in my best interest. And after thinking that, I could have sworn I felt it inner-smiling at me.

I had only run about nine kilometers (somebody had been considerate enough to post the signs after every kilometer) when my legs were starting to burn. I frowned.

'_What's this?_' I thought. '_Last time I ran, I could run eleven kilometers before getting tired._' In fact, I'd prided myself on my physical fitness. I'd always been pretty fit. Even as a kid, before all the bad stuff happened, before Juvie, I'd been a good runner; when I was thirteen years old I'd managed to run a five kilometer race, and come in sixth place. Just last year, while I was out of Juvie, I'd joined the track team at my school and won a fifteen kilometer marathon. I could run an American mile in just under six minutes. So the fact that I was getting prematurely tired worried me.

'_Maybe you haven't been working out enough._' The inner-voice suggested.

I frowned, not because I disagreed, but because it was right. When was the last time I went for a run, as opposed to a casual walk? When was the last time I really pushed myself, really tested my limits?

With a determined smile, I decided that day would be today. Despite the unpleasant burning feeling in my legs and chest, I continued running.

When I got to thirteen kilometers, I slowed down. Ahead of me was Tyler, Bridgette, Eva, Justin, and Geoff, who had passed me, and behind me was everybody else. I looked behind me, and saw a small group of people catching up. I looked back. I didn't want to see who else was coming.

I also knew that I didn't want them to catch up to me, because, knowing my luck, one of them would be Courtney. So, against my better judgment, I sped up.

By the time I got to the seventeen kilometers sign, the camp was just barely in sight. The group behind me had completely disappeared. My limbs were burning, and I couldn't breathe. I stopped running, and just continued to walk. I put my arms over my head, and walked, slowly, towards the camp. My legs felt like jelly, and my arms felt like lead. It was a strange, contrasted sort of feeling, albeit uncomfortable in every way.

As I walked, I counted my heartbeat; it had worked so hard I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. After inhaling, it sped up, and after I exhaled, it slowed down.

I waited until I could breathe properly before I started running again. I fought against my rubbery legs and lead arms and I ran another kilometer (now I was just slightly past the eighteen-mark) when I stopped again, this time on accident. My legs just stopped moving. I couldn't finish, and I fell to my knees.

I'd failed. I couldn't finish this race. Because I had to out-do myself, because I couldn't let Courtney pass me, I had to speed up and waste my energy, and now, I couldn't finish the stupid, pointless race.

This failure was a painful slap in the face. The unstoppable, unbeatable Duncan couldn't run a mere twenty kilometers. The other campers made it! But nope. Not Duncan.

I moved from my knees to sitting Indian style on the ground. '_Well, if I'm going to quit, might as well try to get comfortable._' I thought bitterly. '_I'm not getting up for a while._'

Just then, another group of people passed me, comprised of DJ, Trent, Gwen and the skinnier Wonder twin who had managed to break herself away from the other one in order to run the race at her own speed.

And then I got mad. This was the group that had been behind me earlier. The group for whose position I sped up, because I thought Courtney might have been in it, and I couldn't have her beating me.

I'd wasted all that energy for nothing, and now, because of my own competitiveness, I'd expelled the rest of my energy and now couldn't even run the rest of the STUPID, GOD DAMNED RACE!

Well, needless to say, at that point, I was fuming. Words like 'wasted effort' and 'pointless' kept running around in my head, using energy I didn't have.

Or did I? I'd rested a good ten minutes at least. Would I be able to stand now? Could I walk, at least? Would I be able to run?

Wobbling, I carefully stood up. I was a little off-balance, but I could stand. Shakily, I leaned against a tree and stepped forward. Then another step. And another. And finally, I was walking as easily as if I'd just woken up.

I walked a good half-kilometer before I tried running again. Behind me, I saw two people running towards me. From the distance, I couldn't tell who it was, but it didn't matter to me anymore. Let Courtney beat me. I just wanted to get back to camp.

As it turned out, it was Cody and Lindsay, and they were running about two meters apart. I was relieved, in a weird kind of way. I guess something deep down really wanted me to beat Courtney, and no amount of near-suicide experiences would change that.

Halfway between the 18 and 19 kilometer mark, my legs went numb. It was a sudden thing; they were rubbery, and then it was like they weren't even there. I smiled, even though I knew this wasn't a good thing. I could run.

It would be awkward, and uncomfortable, but I could run now.

So I did.

From eighteen and a half kilometers all the way to the Main Lodge, I ran like my life depended on it.

Behind me, I saw a single person, then farther back from that, a group of people. I couldn't tell from a distance, but I was certain the single person would have been Courtney. She wouldn't want to lose this. She wouldn't come in first, but she wouldn't lose. If it meant her life, she wouldn't lose.

And neither would I.

As I walked into the cabin, I immediately saw everyone collapsed randomly over the two tables, dispersed across the two team tables. I guess serious fatigue eradicated the need for playful competition like team tables.

Appreciating that I wouldn't have to walk any more, I immediately collapsed in the chair closest to the door, and put my head down. It wasn't a good position for catching my breath, but I wasn't concerned about that. In my legs, as soon as I sat down, there was a rush of feeling, and it wasn't pleasant; sort of like I was being stabbed up and down my legs with pins. I groaned.

I was the tenth person back. I frowned, but shrugged. I'd finished. I hadn't come in last. I could be proud of that much.

'_Besides,_' the inner voice tried to console. '_Not only did we beat Courtney, but we've never had to run that far before. Ever._'

I nodded. That was true. I'd never run twenty kilometers before, ever. This was a first, and the fact that I'd needed to stop several times just told me that I should practice more. Get in shape. Establish an exercise regiment, and stick to it.

If I could run the full twenty kilometers before I got voted off, I'd leave without complaining.

Just as I made that vow, Courtney came in. I smirked, glad to see that I'd been right. She was huffing and puffing, and, without looking at me, walked to the other table and sat down opposite Geoff. I didn't really pay attention, though. She'd done it completely on accident, and purely out of fatigue. Besides, she was too competitive to think about sitting at the other team's table, no matter how tired she was.

Suddenly, Owen came in, carrying something over his shoulder. "Clear a table, stat!" Behind him, Heather and LeShawna shuffled in. LeShawna's face looked dark, and she fell to her knees.

"Ugh! We made it!" She panted. I then looked over at Owen and discovered that the thing he'd carried in had been Noah, unconscious, and on whom he was now administering CPR.

Behind all of them, Harold came in, wheezing and clutching his chest. Courtney, who seemed fully rested after just minutes (much to my relief), walked over to him and said, "What took you so long?! We just lost the challenge!"

It was hard for me not to notice just how good she'd looked out of breath. It was hard for me to control my imagination after that, but I managed to subdue it; those were the kinds of thoughts I'd save for later, when I was alone. The inner voice just rolled it's inner-eyes at me. I smirked.

Harold just continued to wheeze, and managed to spurt out, "I think I'm having heart palpitations."

Then Gwen jumped in, and said, "Hey, wait a minute. If they lost... that means we won the challenge!" Immediately, all the Bass groaned and the Gophers (including the freshly conscious Noah, who had to have been faking it the whole time) cheered.

And Chris just smiled. "Whoa, there! Hold your horses, guys. That wasn't the challenge."

Without missing a beat, Gwen voiced aloud what we all were thinking. "What did he just say?"

Walking over to a curtain (that, I could have sworn, wasn't there five minutes ago), he gestured at it, saying dramatically, "Who's... hungry?"

Then the curtain opened, and I think we all died a little bit inside. Behind the curtain was the best looking food we'd all seen since we got here.

Now, I know I wasn't the only one to think it was a gift from the gods. It having been a full week since any of us had been decently full (or even had something that resembled food), my stomach instantly growled at the site of it.

Then, the camera's shut off, and Chris let us loose.

Somehow, we managed to be orderly in how we got the food. We formed neat lines, and were polite in passing utensils. I guess we all must have been too tired to fight over who got what first.

Everybody pretty much gorged themselves on turkey and rolls and whatnot. While there were a few of us who knew our limits (me being one of them), some of the others reached their limits and just kept eating. At the end, it was those people who had stomach aches.

Finally, when we were all full enough to stop eating, Chris came back in, followed by the camera guy. He set up the camera, and cued us all to start.

Like they needed it, though; they were all moaning already.

Chris just grinned his usual, cynical grin, and pulled his megaphone out of nowhere. "Okay, campers! Time for part two of your challenge!"

Owen, food all over his face, said, "I thought eating was the second part!"

Gwen, her voice pleading, jumped in. "What more do you want from us?"

Heather groaned. "Weird goth girl is right. Haven't we been through enough?"

Chris, still through the megaphone, said, "Umm... Let me think about that." He paused for a second for dramatic effect, then said, "No! It's time for... the Awake-a-thon!" Just by the tone of his voice, I had a feeling that our second challenge was going to be bad.

"The what-a-thon?" Owen asked.

He just grinned, and said, "Don't worry!" Honestly, it only inspired me to worry more. Chris jumped down from the table, and said, "This is an easy one! The team with the last camper standing wins invincibility."

Gwen looked sullen. "So. What you're saying is, the twenty K run, and the turkey-eating frenzy were part of your evil plan to make it harder for us to stay awake?" She asked indignantly. Huh. Suddenly, it made sense now.

Chris was grinning from ear to ear. "That's right, Gwen!"

She just looked more sullen. "Man, he's good."

Before anybody else said anything, I left the Main Lodge, unnoticed, and headed towards the bathroom. I knew where we were going to meet, and even if I was wrong, I wasn't worried. All it meant was one person not there fighting for it.

In the bathroom, I turned on the cold water and splashed my face with it. The cold felt good on my too-hot, rather sticky skin. I wanted to jump in a shower, but I didn't see that happening. Not with the Awake-a-thon running in about two minutes.

I cupped my hands, let the water fill up, then splashed myself again. The cold just kept feeling better and better.

'_Maybe we're coming down with something._' The inner voice said with concern. I shook my head, and thought back, '_No. I'm just tired already. I don't see how I'm going to do this now._'

I headed down to the bonfire pit, and took a seat opposite the Gopher team. Purely coincidentally (and I really mean it this time), I ended up sitting next to Courtney.

My heart started to race. '_Oh no._' I thought frantically. '_Oh, no, oh no, oh no. What am I gonna do?? If I talk to her, that'll ruin everything! I had the timing spanned just right, and talking now would ruin it, but moving would make her want to talk to me more...._'

'_Relax._' The inner voice said calmly. '_Don't stress. Just put on that menacing face, and stare straight ahead.' _It chuckled tonelessly. _'We've got a lot of awake hours to look forward to._'

Twelve hours later, it was right. My best menacing face was looking grumpier and grumpier as I felt the bags under my eyes grow. Exhaust set in; I was so tired that my eyes started to hurt, but I was afraid to blink, and did it only sparingly. I was afraid that if I blinked too much, my eyes would close, and I would fall asleep.

Somewhere around hour seven, Courtney got up and pushed her seat away. At first she started pacing. Then she started shuffling her feet. Both of these phases lasted for a while; after each, she would rest about an hour, then go at another one.

Come hour twenty two, she started walking in place, and I was leaning on my knees, looking away from her, staring menacingly in the opposite direction. I was exhausted, but I constantly put myself in an uncomfortable position so as not to fall asleep.

It was painful, now; my eyelids felt so heavy, it was like they were magnets, attracted to each other. I was fighting gravity, staying awake now. The more I stared, the more I felt myself drifting away, so now I started moving my eyes every few minutes.

Then we hit the twenty-three hour mark, and I finally needed a bathroom break. Geoff came along with me.

On the walk there, neither of us spoke. We were in mutual understanding that speaking took too much effort, and neither of us were up to it. I wasn't sure I was capable of forming a coherent thought, let alone voicing it out loud.

We got to the bathroom, and the first thing I did was splash cold water on my face. Geoff watched, and followed suit. The water, though it helped, didn't do much; I was still exhausted, but at the very least, I was able to put several thoughts together.

After the both of us went to the bathroom, we walked back to the fire pit, occasionally bumping shoulders on accident in our fatigue.

By the twenty-four hour mark, each team had lost about three campers, and as for myself, well, I wasn't exactly in the best shape of my life.

My thoughts started getting incoherent. I was imagining totally random things that didn't make sense and that I wouldn't be able to remember later.

Suddenly, loudly, Chris shouted, "Congratulations, campers! You've made it to the twenty-four hour mark! Time to take things up a notch!" He pulled a sheet off a strangely shaped pile, and shouted, "Fairytales!"

I groaned. This was torture, right here. There was nothing I had ever faced, or ever would face, in my lifetime, more brutal than this.

Picking up a book, Chris cleared his throat, and in the driest, most monotonous voice he could, he began to read aloud, while Chef played a harp wearing a sheep costume, "Once upon a time, there was, inside this boring kingdom, a boring village. And inside this boring, sleepy village, filled with very boring children who did very boring things...."

At that point, I tuned out. If I wanted to stay awake, I was going to have to ignore Chris' feeble attempts at inducing sleep. I could make it. None of these campers could last much longer. If I was already this tired, then they all had to be ten times worse.

For a while, I sustained myself on thoughts like that. Sometimes I repeated, but it didn't matter. It kept my mind occupied, and that was what was important.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, music from the Nutcracker started to play, and (I don't know if this was a dream or a hallucination) Chef, wearing a ballerina tutu, began leaping around, and threw glitter at us. I yawned, and relaxed on my chair.

However, almost instantly, I tensed back up. I wouldn't fall asleep. I couldn't. Not yet.

I began to shake my leg; that tended to keep me awake.

More time passed, then; I looked at the timer behind Chris, and it read fifty-one hours. I stifled a yawn, and clutched my knees. After starting to jitter my leg, I found that I couldn't stop it, and it was really starting to hurt.

So, without thinking about it (or anything at all for that matter), I started shaking the other one, and it forced the other one to stop moving.

Suddenly, from my right, I heard Eva shout, "His eyelids are painted, I saw it!"

I followed her pointed finger to Justin, and heard Chris say, "Shut up! I've got to see this!" He ran over to Justin, who'd been standing in the same spot all fifty-one hours. Chris then chuckled, and said, "That is so freakin' cool! But, you're still out, dude."

Justin shuffled away sadly, and I stifled another yawn.

Around hour eighty-five, I began to gain thought back, only these thoughts were different in comparison to my regular thoughts. These thoughts were cruel, and rude, and, even though I had just a bit of better-judgment in me, it wasn't enough. I had to do it, just the one; I was so bored, and so tired, and it seemed like such a good idea....

I obtained a cup from Chef, filled it with warm water, and brought it back to the fire pit. Gently, I picked up Harold's hand and put it in the cup, grinning cruelly. The effect was instantaneous; a dark spot on his jeans quickly formed, and I laughed loudly and obnoxiously.

"Oh, gross, it works! Dude peed his pants!" I yelled, pointing at Harold's pants. He woke up looking confused, looked at his pants, gasped, and curled into the fetal position.

Among Harold, some of the other campers began to wake up. From the Gopher side, I heard two similarly toned screams, and looked over. Noah and Cody were looking at each other and screaming. I didn't know what it was about, so I let it go. Not my business.

Then I noticed that Courtney had fallen asleep. I didn't know when; she could have been out for hours, or minutes, but I wouldn't have noticed. I sighed in relief; one less personal challenge for me to worry about.

The only people left were Heather, Gwen, Trent, Eva and me. I blinked once in one eye, and then in the other eye. My basic functions felt all off. Despite the fact that I'd just eaten, I felt starving; despite that I'd just had a drink, I felt thirsty. I needed to use the bathroom, but that one was probably legitimate.

Chris looked like he was plotting as he said, "What is the matter with you people?" Then he sipped from his coffee. "Come on! Fall asleep already!"

Then Gwen clutched onto his sleeves, and said, "You gotta hook me up, man. I'll even eat the grinds. Anything!"

Chris looked mildly disgusted, and said, "Alright, you five stay with me. The rest of you, go and get a shower for heaven's sake! You stink!" Harold took this as his cue to leave and ran off. Chris took another sip of his coffee and said, "I didn't want it to come to this. I said that to Chef Hatchett last night, I said, 'Chef? I don't want it to come to this! But darn it! These campers are tough!' And so, I've come up with the most boring, sleep-inducing activity I can find." He then smiled, and my heart sank. This couldn't be good.

He pulled out a book, and said, "The history of Canada. A pop-up book, chapter one: The beaver." In that same monotone he used when he was reading the fairytales, he read aloud, "The national symbol, and a 'dam' fine hat."

We all groaned. This was it. Most of us would be going down, and soon. Personally, I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be able to last. Personally, I wasn't sure how much I cared.

He continued reading on like that, in that History teacher voice, until, finally, I heard someone go down. I looked to my right; Eva had finally gone down. I had to admit, even sleeping, she looked angry. I turned back to Chris and continued to zone out until I heard another "fwump!" I looked to my right, and Heather had gone down.

Now there were three of us; Gwen, Trent and me.

Alright. I could do this. It would be just like the race, only this was easily much more difficult. My head was pounding, and I'd've given anything to just fall down right where I was and sleep. I couldn't, though; I was the last representative the Bass had.

I grew angry at Eva. She just HAD to go and fall asleep, didn't she? Fall asleep and leave me here to suffer.

Then I began to wonder if it was even worth it anymore. I wasn't getting voted off anytime soon; I'd been the only Bass to keep awake this long. If they voted me out, I'd be sure to have them injured, all of them.

My thoughts carried on in this manner until I heard another "fwump."

It was Trent.

And suddenly, it was just Gwen and I awake. I looked at her, and saw the same expression in her eyes that I hoped was in mine, too: best of luck. We'll both need it.

After another chapter, Chris closed the book and said, "Time for a bathroom break. Any takers?"

At this point, I was probably going to explode. But I couldn't cave; not if she wasn't caving. "I've held it this long, sweet-heart. I could go all day." I said, trying to shrug it off.

But she was too smart, and could see right through me. She smirked. "Yea, but can you hold it for another ten chapters?"

Damn it, she was right. I had to go, now. I sighed, and stood up.

Chris was smiling that crooked, evil smile. "You've got five minutes. As long as you don't mind a little company."

I groaned. I didn't like people with me in the bathroom. That was both awkward and gross. But if I said no, I would be forfeiting, and I couldn't have that, now, could I?

So I growled. "Fine. But stay out of the stall."

I got to the bathroom, and, like my previous bathroom breaks, the first thing I did was splash water on my face. I had to be at least thirty-seven degrees Celsius, my face was burning. The cool water felt good, although, at this point, it had no wake-up effect whatsoever.

In the stall, I pulled down my pants, and sat down.

My eyelids drooped uncontrollably. '_No!_' I thought half-heartedly. '_Not in the bathroom. I'll fall asleep out there, that's fine, just please not in the bathroom!_'

Those were my last thoughts before falling asleep.

I didn't know how much later it was, but someone was shaking me awake. I realized that I was still sitting on the toilet, pants still down, and that I had fallen asleep leaning on the toilet paper dispenser. And the person shaking me awake was Geoff, who was pointedly (and thankfully) looking away.

"Come on, dude, wake up!" He said. I nodded, and said, "Get out for a second."

He did, and closed the door behind him.

I sighed, and finished going to the bathroom.

When I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. "How long was I asleep in there?" I asked Geoff, staring at my reflection. I looked paler than death, and the bags under my eyes were almost disgusting.

"Maybe ten minutes? It took me longer to get you to wake up than you were actually asleep, though, dude." He joked.

I nodded, then walked out. Geoff followed me.

"I'm going to bed." I told him. I didn't care who had won. I knew I'd lost it, because if we'd won, it would have been the first thing Geoff told me. Besides, I wasn't worried. I wasn't getting voted off. Not this time. But I knew who was, and she was exactly who I was just going to vote for.

"I'm going to bed." I told him again. "And tell the others that if they wake me up, I will not hesitate to put them to sleep for good."

Geoff nodded, and we parted ways; he headed towards the cabins to warn everyone that I was coming, while I headed straight to the confessional.

Before I'd even gone to the bathroom barely ten minutes ago, I knew who I was voting for.

I turned on the camera, grabbed my slip of paper, quickly scribbled the name, and said, "If you'd stayed awake, I wouldn't be so freakin' tired right now. YOU could have been the one to win this for us, and I wouldn't be so damn exhausted!" I said to the camera, then put the slip with Eva's name into the box.

Then I headed back to camp, and, not noticing the sympathetic looks I got from people (except Courtney's, whose expression I glanced at quickly before looking away), I headed straight into my bunk, and without bothering to clean my piercings or brush my teeth or even change into my pajamas, I fell into the best sleep of my life.


	7. In Which We Dream Some Dreams

**A/N:** I hope this doesn't turn anyone against me, but this chapter is dedicated to the very fortunate turn of events to me: Barack Obama is almost definitely going to become the next US President.

Color me thrilled!! :)

Anyhoo, just a quick shout out to those that deserve it:  
Readers: I love you so much.  
Reviewers/Alerters: I love you at least 3.5% more. Do you know how much that is? That's a lot.

Alrighty, this is the quintessential dream chapter, because nearly every fan-fiction has at least one. So this one's mine. I'm actually proud over how this one came out; it sets a good foundation for Duncan and Courtney's love/hate relationship. :)  
And if **I** like it, I'm almost sure that those of you who like my story will like this one. xP

On last thing: I looked ahead to see how many more chapters before we get to the really good stuff; including the between-challenge chapters, I've got about nine more to go before I get to the real meat of the Duncan/Courtney fandom. ): It's gonna take foreverrrrrrrrr. ):

So, without further ado, here you are: the transition from The Big Sleep to Dodge Brawl.

Looks like the horizontal ruler's gonna be a jerk again. ):K  
Sorry about the formatting. It makes me just as sad as you guys.

((_Italicized_ for thoughts and dreams. **Bold** for emphasis, and thoughts in the dreams. A lost line of "...." indicate a line break. Just to clarify.))

**Story Beginning:**

I slept a good four hours before it was time for the Bonfire ceremony. Geoff shook me awake, and I groaned. My head was pounding, and I felt nauseous, but I went, because I wanted to make sure Courtney wasn't getting voted off.

I mean, I knew that there wasn't much chance of that, because, as far as I knew, she was one of the last ones awake, but still. I had to know.

........................................................................................................................................................

When we got down there and the camera started rolling, Chris gave us the same rap as last time; if your name's not called, it's Dock of Shame and Boat of Losers for you. I tuned him out, mostly; I was nodding off where I sat.

However, I tuned back in when he started mentioning the marshmallows.

"The first marshmallow goes to Duncan." I picked my head up, and slowly stood up and walked over. My feet were dragging. I was so tired....

Then Bridgette was called, and then, I was relieved to hear Courtney's name called. I immediately felt ten times better; my headache felt a little bit better, at least.

'_She's not going home; you can nod off now._' The inner voice said. I smiled slightly; I didn't know where it had gone for the entire Awake-a-thon. I was almost worried. '_No we can't._' I told it. '_We gotta see who's going home._'

Everyone else's name was then called, until only Eva and Harold were left.

Well, now, it was really down to either of them; I could see why people would have voted for either of them, and I wouldn't be sad for either of them to leave. I smiled.

"Campers! This is the final marshmallow of the evening." Chris said too loudly. There was a very long pause, during which I almost fell back to sleep, and then Chris said, "Harold." Harold grinned in relief, and picked up his marshmallow. "Eva," Chris said, "the Dock of Shame awaits."

Eva (predictably) got mad. "Nice! Really nice! Who needs this stupid TV show, anyway?!" Then she walked towards the dock, stopping to kick Chris in the shin.

Just as she was at the dock, Courtney called sympathetically, "Buh-bye, Eva!"

Instead of taking it as a sign of farewell, Eva just got mad, and hurled a stick at her like a javelin.

"Touchy!" Courtney said in surprise. My eyes widened. That was way too close to hurting her for comfort.

........................................................................................................................................................

After the Boat of Losers pulled away, we nine circled around the fire. I gave in (more than three days, awake, of self-denial was good enough to treat myself to this much); I stood next to Courtney, and she raised her marshmallow over the fire.

"To the Killer Bass!" Courtney toasted. We all followed suit, and she finished, "And to not ending up here next week."

The camera turned off, then, and we all roasted out marshmallows accordingly. Generally, I like mine toasted completely through, burn-free, but tonight, I was far too impatient; I just stuck the marshmallow right into the fire, and let it catch fire, then quickly blew it out and ate it. The burn tasted really gross, but I could only just barely taste it. Four hours of sleep after so long of being awake felt worse than if I'd just stayed awake for all those hours straight.

I stood there for a while, staring into the fire. I was so tired, I felt myself rocking back and forth. The world was spinning, and nothing felt right.

Suddenly, the fire came rushing towards me, my eyes closing, and...

Then I felt a pair of arms catch me. I opened my eyes to see Courtney had her arms out in front of me, catching me before I fell into the fire.

Suddenly, I was a lot more awake than I was barely five seconds ago. I was so tired, I almost fell into the damn fire! I looked at Courtney with wide eyes, and her eyes were just as wide.

I chuckled nervously. "I just... almost fell into the fire, didn't I?"

Her eyes still wide, she nodded. Then she noticed her arms were still around me, blushed, and said, "You should probably go back and get some sleep. Do you want me to walk with you?"

I shrugged, and started walking. '_So close..._' The inner voice said. '_If she comes with, we'll know for sure...._'

She said to the others, "I'm gonna walk Duncan back, make sure he doesn't fall asleep while he's walking."

"Want me to do it?" Geoff asked. 'No!' I almost shouted. 'Don't ruin it for me, Geoff!' My expression must have said as much, and Geoff looked like he was about to take it back when Courtney shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine. I was going to go to bed anyways." She said dismissively. Geoff just shrugged, and smirked at me. I shrugged, and smiled.

"Night, guys." I said, and everybody responded with half-hearted 'good-nights.'

........................................................................................................................................................

I didn't say anything to Courtney while we were walking back, but my inner voice was cheering. '_She likes you, man!_' The inner voice shouted. He was giving me headaches. '_You don't have to ignore her anymore!_' I must have been smiling; I was in a great mood.

But I had to check. I had to be sure.

"Are you actually going to bed now?" I asked cautiously.

She shrugged. "I might. I'm probably going to read or something, though."

I let myself have a minute to internally settle this, and then I asked, "So, why'd you offer to walk me back, then? Why not just let Geoff do it?" I guess my tact was way off due to my fatigue, because when I thought about it when I woke up, it hadn't made much sense for me to ask.

She giggled. "Do you know how much privacy I get in that cabin?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Not enough."

That set me back a little bit. She COULD have just been doing this for herself....

'_Naw._' The inner-voice told me. '_There's no way. She likes you, man, don't doubt it. She's just in denial, like you were. As weird as this must be for you, it's probably ten times weirder for her._'

That must have been true; I was a delinquent, and I easily adapted to any given situation. But she was a perfectionist, and everything must have always been the same at her house. She must have never learned how to adjust.

........................................................................................................................................................

We got back to the cabin in only a few minutes. Once we were there, Courtney hesitated a minute. I looked at her, cocking my head. She opened her mouth, paused a split second, then exhaled heavily and said, "Good night, Duncan.'

...What was she going to say?

"Good night, Princess." I said sassily. She rolled her eyes, and sighed. I smirked, and we went our separate ways.

As I walked into my cabin, I couldn't help but feel elated; she liked me. She had to.

........................................................................................................................................................

That night was the first time I'd had a dream in a long, long time, let alone as many as I had. I don't know if it's because I had so much memory to filter out, or if it was just because I was tired, or even if it was because I was thinking about her before I fell asleep, but for some reason, I dreamt of her.

The first dream was really confusing and stupid, the second funny, and the third... well, I really liked the third dream....

........................................................................................................................................................

_In the first dream, I was walking down the Dock of Shame (I think I'd just gotten voted off), and she came up to me and handed me something._

_When I got home, I looked at it; it was a headband. On the other side of the headband, it said, "I stole this from Tyler. I hope you like it. Love, Courtney."_

_So, in order to thank her, I had to go back to Camp Wawanakwa, and when I got there, I kissed her forehead and told her I loved it. She blushed, and said, "Not in front of Harold!" So then I looked around me, and Harold was suddenly standing there, saying, "Idiot!"_

_I growled at him, and he laughed._

........................................................................................................................................................

Suddenly, I woke up, and the sound of Harold snoring sounded obnoxiously loud. Climbing down from my bunk, I hit him in the stomach. He woke up wheezing.

"Hey! What was that for?" He asked breathlessly.

I glared. As exhausted as I was, I was in no mood to be woken up. "You're snoring woke me up. Cut it out!"

As I climbed back to bed, I heard him mutter, "Like I can help it...." He probably said more, but I was already back asleep.

I didn't dream again until I'd been woken up two more times, and at this point, Harold had a bruise on his arm and had a pillow thrown at him (I didn't have enough energy to hit him anymore).

But after that, I dreamed of her again....

........................................................................................................................................................

_Again, I was walking down the Dock of Shame (which had become obscenely big), but this time, I was walking with Geoff, Bridgette and Courtney. For some reason, we were looking for DJ, and we knew that he was on the Dock of Shame somewhere._

_When we came across him, there was a wedding scene, and DJ was standing there in a wedding dress, next to Eva, wearing a tux. They were both smiling, and looking at each other like they were the only two people alive. Suddenly, Geoff and I were in tuxes, and the girls were wearing white dresses. The girls went and stood next to DJ, and Geoff and I went and stood next to Eva._

_Then, there was a short wedding ceremony (the kind that you have in dreams, where the minister says something that makes no sense and that you forget about when you wake up), and then said, "You may now kiss the bride!"_

........................................................................................................................................................

Before either of them kissed the other, though, I was startled awake by a very loud snort, then more snoring. I growled, loudly, and this time, I saw that Geoff and DJ were awake too.

"What's his problem, dude?" Geoff asked me.

"He snores." I said flatly. "And I've already woken him up three times and told him to quit it." And, punched him. Hard. But I didn't tell them that; if they wanted to hit him, I didn't want to be their cause of stopping.

My dream had confused me, a little bit. For all I knew, there was no foundation for it, absolutely no reason for it. As far as I knew, DJ felt about Eva the same way we all did; intimidated, and largely impressed.

But I had to be sure, so, while Geoff woke up Harold and told him to shut up, I asked, "Hey, DJ, how do you feel about Eva?"

DJ shuddered. "She's scary, man. I mean, I'm impressed by her physical fitness and stuff... but dang!" He shook his head, then looked at me questioningly. "Why do you ask?"

"Don't worry about it." I shrugged it off. I heard Harold say, "Gosh!" just as I fell asleep.

........................................................................................................................................................

I had to wake up one more time before I got to the third dream; this time, I wasn't fooling around. I jumped down off my bed, and got really close to his face. He woke up in a minute, then jumped.

"Argh!" After he realized it was me, he said, "Gosh! What?"

"If you don't stop snoring, you're going to regret it." I seethed.

Harold just sighed angrily. "I already told you, I can't help it!"

Like I cared. "Then don't go back to sleep." I said. I looked at my watch. It was already three in the morning.

Harold sighed again, and said, "You know, between you and Courtney, I'm not going to get any sleep at all." He sounded angry, but I was suddenly intrigued.

"Courtney? What do you mean?"

Harold looked at me, and grinned. "Oh, yea, she kept coming in here and waking me up and telling me to cut out the snoring." Then he squinted his eyes at me. "You like her, don't you?"

Harold couldn't know. I wouldn't let him. There was NO way, especially not if Courtney had been coming in here. So I rolled my eyes and sarcastically said, "Oh yea. I love her to death."

He shrugged, and said, "I was just asking."

I sighed. "Whatever. Just stop snoring." Then I climbed back into bed.

I didn't immediately fall asleep, though. Instead, I thought about the fact that Courtney was coming in here, in the middle of the night, no less, and I hadn't been awake to enjoy it. I hadn't even noticed it! Where was the justice in that?!

However, I fell asleep, thinking about her, and the third dream (my favorite one) taunted me from behind my eyelids. The happenings in my dream seriously made me lean towards it being the cause of me thinking about her before I fell asleep, but hey! I'm no scientist....

........................................................................................................................................................

_I was asleep, in my bed, when suddenly, I woke up, because I heard a noise. There was no one else in my cabin, only me. I went to the window, and looked out. I saw a shape disappear behind some trees, so I went to investigate._

_Well, as I got to the forest, I heard someone giggling. I started to panic, because it sounded eerie, and it was dark. I see someone flit from behind one tree to behind another, so I turned to look, but already, they were on the opposite side of the forest, flitting between the trees._

_By now, I was terrified. I was almost positive I was going to be killed, and I'd wake up scared._

_As it were, out of nowhere, I got knocked to the ground from behind. When I flipped over, I saw..._

_Courtney._

_I let out a sigh of relief, and leaned my head back on the ground. '**Phew.**' I thought. '**Dodged a bullet there.**'_

_So I stand back up, and Courtney said, "Did I scare you, Duncan?"_

_I smile. "Yea, you did."_

_She giggled again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."_

_We stood there for a minute, and she said, "You know, Duncan, I like you, a lot. Did you know that?"_

_I was surprised in my dream that she said that, but I told her yes, that I did know that, and that I liked her too. I'd liked her almost since we got on the island, and that I was just too proud to tell her, just in case I was wrong._

_She came closer. "You weren't wrong, Duncan." She said, staring straight into my eyes._

_"I know." I said back, hypnotized by her deep ebony eyes. They were so... deep... I couldn't stop staring, but it wasn't like I wanted to look away._

_Suddenly, her eyes closed, and the trance was broken, and she kissed me on the lips. I was surprised, but I didn't exactly pull away. I'd wanted to do that for a while, and, sure it was a dream, but I WAS a lucid dreamer...._

_She licked my lower lip gently, testing the waters to see if I would comply. I don't understand why she was being careful about it; I was a guy, and I just admitted to having a crush on her. There was absolutely no chance I wasn't going to jump on that opportunity._

_So, to be blunt, we were making out for... well, a while, in my dream. And I'll be honest, I was having a really, really good time. Dream-Courtney obviously wasn't having any objections either, because suddenly, she whispered something in my ear the real Courtney would have never offered...._

........................................................................................................................................................

I woke up from that dream a rather unhappy camper. Dream-Courtney had just been about to take off her bra when a very loud grunt from the bunk below me woke me up. I almost screamed, but I managed to let out a pretty impressive growl that woke up everyone **except** Harold.

I climbed down from my bunk, holding my pillow in a vice-grip. That little twerp was going to die. He just ruined the **best** dream of my life, because he has to have a god damned **medical condition**.

DJ and Geoff ended up restraining me until I struggled the majority of my violent anger out. Two of the girls came over to check on us; one was Courtney, and her companion had been Bridgette; they caught me fighting against DJ and Geoff's hold to get to Harold.

Seeing Courtney dispelled a lot of the violent anger, but unfortunately, it also caused my stomach to clench up. I'd just had a dream in which she was about to be completely naked; I think I was justified in feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Is everything okay over here?" Bridgette asked nervously. They must have caught the expression on my face, because they both looked pretty surprised.

I relaxed my stance and DJ and Geoff let go. "Yea, we're fine." I said flatly. "I was about to kill Harold over here, but they stopped me. It's fine now. Go back to bed." I myself climbed back up into my bunk, and sat with my legs hanging over the edge, elbows resting on my knees, and I hunched my shoulders.

I snuck a quick glance at Courtney to find that she was staring at me. That was when I realized that I wasn't wearing a shirt. I saw her blush and look away, and I smirked.

"So, what do you guys propose we do?" DJ asked. "We gotta stop him somehow, but I don't think he CAN stop."

I scowled. "Which is why we kill him." I joked. I glanced over at Courtney again to see her roll her eyes. I smirked again.

"Naw, that wouldn't swing well with his parents." Geoff said. I don't think he realized I was joking. "I think we just need to get revenge. That's the only way."

I nodded. "We... write on his face with a marker!" I suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea." Courtney agreed. I looked at her with a curious expression, and she just blushed and looked away again. I grinned, and looked at Geoff, who was looking at Bridgette, who was looking at Courtney. All of us were grinning.

DJ, the only one who was really putting thought into it said, "Okay, yea. We should give him a marker mustache."

I nodded, and handed him a marker. "Here." Then I smirked evilly. "Make it a thick one."

Harold slept right through the alterations, and continued snoring.

I looked at my watch. It read '5:57.'

"Great." I said flatly. "So much for getting any sleep."

Courtney looked at me sympathetically. "Sorry, Duncan."

I shrugged. "It's not your fault." Then I scowled. "I'm going to beat the crap out of him when he wakes up, though." I said sluggishly. My thoughts were acting slow, and the words came out fuzzy. Everything was rushing in my ears, and just as I was about to fall over side ways and fall asleep, Harold let out a loud snort, and I jerked awake.

I growled again, but mid-way, it turned into a groan.

"Urgh. And, don't tell me, we have the next challenge today, don't we?" I asked. They all hesitated, but nodded.

I groaned again, louder. This couldn't be happening! Good God, I was so tired.

I resolved to murder Harold if it was the last thing I did.

........................................................................................................................................................

We ended up sitting up for a while, and having a talk. Because we were all so tired, it wasn't really a serious talk, just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo pushed together that sounded like conversation at the time.

One out of four sentences had something to do with, "I'm so tired!" or "God, kill me now!"

Most of those were sentences from me.

........................................................................................................................................................

Courtney and I sat next to each other, across from Bridgette and Geoff, with DJ in between Geoff and me. I was leaning towards Courtney on my one hand, and she was leaning towards me, sitting almost mirrored to me. After a few minutes like that, I felt pressure on my shoulder, and looked down to see Courtney's head right there.

Bridgette was looking from me to Courtney, and back again, and Geoff and DJ were grinning. I gave them a half-smile, and leaned my head on hers. Not because I wanted to, but because my head felt so heavy all of a sudden....

........................................................................................................................................................

I couldn't tell if what I'd heard after that was a dream, or if I was awake, but after I leaned my head on Courtney's, they conversed quietly about the two of us.

"They SO like each other." Geoff whispered. DJ agreed. "Seriously, man."

Bridgette was doubtful. "I dunno... I mean, I'm pretty sure Courtney likes Duncan because of how much she denies that she likes him, but do you really think Duncan likes Courtney?"

Geoff replied, "Oh, no doubt. Don't tell Courtney?" She must have answered affirmatively, because Geoff said, "He's admitted it to us. He really likes her. He's just not sure she likes him back."

Bridgette obviously appreciated that knowledge, because she said, "Aww! That's so cute!" She didn't gush about it, though, and I was grateful for that. I was a little miffed that Geoff told her, but I was really too tired to even open my eyes. "But, seriously, don't quote me. I could be wrong about her liking him." Then she sighed. "I probably am wrong, and I'm just looking too much into it. I dunno, but I do know that...."

I started to drift under the heavy weight of sleep after that, but not without wondering what it was that Bridgette knew....

........................................................................................................................................................

I jerked awake some time later when I heard another grunt. My jumping woke Courtney up, too, and I felt kind of bad; one, because she looked at least as tired as I was, and two, because… well, I kind of liked having her lean on me. I scowled at Harold, and said, "Is it wrong that I seriously want to hurt him right now?"

Courtney yawned, and said, "Probably, but we all do too."

I scowled, and pulled my knees to my chest. Then I put my arms over my knees and sat like that. "What do you think the challenge is going to be today, anyways?" I asked, mid-yawn.

Geoff shrugged. "Knowing Chris, it's going to be something physical and exhausting."

"Fff..." I scoffed angrily. "Great."

I already knew I wasn't going to participate. I didn't care if it got us disqualified. I didn't care if it meant I got voted off. I didn't care if it got me sent back to Juvie. I was so tired I would have killed someone just to get some sleep.

........................................................................................................................................................

Then, suddenly, it was light out, and I looked at the clock. It was 7:02.

"Well, ladies and gents, I'm going to go take a really, really cold shower." I said flatly. I needed to wake up somehow, and a cold shower was the best thing I could think of. Courtney yawned.

"Yea, me too." She said through a second yawn. Then she realized what she said, and amended, "After Duncan, of course!"

Geoff just looked at me, and grinned. I smirked.

"You know, I wouldn't have any objections to--" I offered. It was actually true; if she wanted to shower with me, heck, I wouldn't say no. It might have given me the opportunity to finish that dream I had....

"Oh, don't even finish that sentence, you pig." She dismissed, then sniffed. I shrugged.

"Hey, whatever floats your boat." I knew she was going to say no. I pretty much just did it because, well, that was me. She just rolled her eyes, and stood up. Bridgette followed her, and with a "see you later, guys," the two of them left our cabin.

Geoff just patted me on the back, and said, "Really classy, dude."

I grinned. "Thanks. I thought so too." Then I chuckled. "Well, whatever. I'll get her to like me one of these days."

........................................................................................................................................................

After a cold shower (whose effects did very little towards waking me up), I dressed quickly and stepped out of the shower, and right into Courtney.

"Princess!" I said in mock surprise. "Fancy meeting you here!"

She just rolled her eyes at me, and said, "Oh, yea, what a surprise. Meeting me at the shower after I told you I was going to be taking one right after you."

I just shrugged innocently, and smirked. She then moved past me and closed her shower door. It reopened after a minute, and she said, "And you'd better not even think about coming in here!"

I muttered, "Darn it! Foiled again!" just loud enough for her to hear.

I could almost hear her rolling her eyes as she muttered, "Pig..."

........................................................................................................................................................

After my shower, I headed right over to the Main Lodge and put my head down. Nobody else was in here, so it was pretty quiet until people started filing in. After me, Geoff, DJ and Bridgette came in, talking about something or other that I didn't really care about. Upon seeing me, they considerately lowered their voices. Or maybe they were talking about me. Whichever.

A little while later, more and more people came in; Courtney was one of the last few to come in. Looking crisp and proper like always, she took a seat one down from the seat across from me, but I hardly noticed. I was so exhausted, but all these voices around me were keeping me awake.

'_It's okay._' The inner voice told me softly. '_You can just kill them all. Then it'll be quiet._'

If it weren't for the fact that I knew it was joking, I'd've definitely been a little bit worried.


	8. Dodge Brawl

**A/N:** Hey, all. Good news, bad news.  
Good news, I obviously found a video hosting site with the Canadian episodes. :)  
Bad news, he/she only has up to fourteen.  
More good news, though: this obviously gives me more time to find the rest of the Canadian season. BONUS!

So, time for the usual:  
Readers: You guys are the cheese to my macaroni. You make the dish.  
Reviewers/Alerters: You're the dressing to my salad, the butter on my bread, the cinnamon on my French Toast: You make the dish infinitely better.

So, obviously, because I've never posted a series before, I'm having problems formatting, what with the ruler, and the bold and italicized and underlined. I think I've finally found a system that works:  
**Bold for emphasis!  
**_Italics for thoughts._  
Underline when I'm addressing you guys in a specific group (see Readers and Reviewers/Alerters in like... every chapter. xD)  
Horizontal Ruler for Line Break.

I don't have much else to say. Just that the next part will be done quickly. It's going to be the quintessential Truth or Dare chapter. Turns out, I've been using a lot of quintessential ideas lately.  
How cliche. :P

So, have fun. Be safe. Enjoy the chapter. ...And.... GO!

* * *

The next thing I heard was Chris' too-loud, obnoxious voice, calling, "Duncaaaaan!" I turned my head to look at him, glaring daggers. I'd **just** fallen asleep, and he had to cut in with his too-cheery-to-be-allowed smile and sarcastic tone. "You look like crap, dude!"

"Stuff it." I said angrily, then laid back down.

Courtney, sounding exhausted, joined in with an explanation. "Harold snored all night."

Chris laughed. I would have to remember to teach him a lesson about being so cheerful in the morning. "Wow! Four nights with no sleep? How much are you **hurting**, dude?"

I scowled. Treating my exhaust with sarcasm was not the best thing to do right now. "Wanna find out?" I asked. I was being perfectly serious, and I was proud to see that he understood that, as well as everyone else, who, after I asked, all took some sort of shelter.

"No, no. It's cool. It's cool!" He said in reconciliation, and I put my head back down. Then someone else came in, to gasps and snickers. Whoever it was walked over and sat down, and the entire place was silent until everyone else started giggling.

Whoever it was finally noticed the attention they were getting, and said, "Okay, what?!" It was Harold. I almost smirked, except that smirking took too much energy.

All the while laughing, Geoff said, "Someone messed with your face, dude."

Harold paused, and probably looked at himself somehow, and said, "Hey! Sweet 'stache!"

'_You have got to be kidding. He **likes** it?!_' I thought incredulously. '_What a freak!_'

* * *

Then Chris shouted. "Hey, everybody! It's Gwen!"

I felt kind of bad for Gwen. I felt her pain, sort of; she at least had a good night's sleep last night, starting from the end of the challenge. I had to keep getting up, and probably got a total of seven hours of sleep. And seven out of more than eighty-five was hardly anything at all.

As it were, I heard her shuffle over to her table, and groan. "I'm so tired. I can't feel my face." Then she dropped her head on the table.

She and I were in the same boat, I could already tell. Well, that was fine. Both teams were now at the disadvantage; if **we** were getting disqualified for one team member out, so were they. I suddenly felt a little bit better about today's challenge, knowing that now, I wasn't going to have to be a part of it.

* * *

I was almost asleep again when I heard Heather shout over to us, "Hey, fish-heads! Way to kick out your strongest player! Why don't you just give up now?" To my right, I heard the almost-silent kick-back of a flinging utensil, then Heather smugly said, "Missed me!"

Chris broke up what just happened by clapping and saying, "Okay, campers, your next challenge begins in ten minutes. And be prepared to ber-ring it!"

I wouldn't be prepared. Screw that, I fully intended to sleep right through it.

As it were, I was shaken awake about five minutes later by Geoff, who said, "Come on, dude, it's time to head over for the challenge." I saw Courtney just over his shoulder stop at the door and look back with a concerned expression.

I nodded. "Okay. Go ahead without me, I gotta stop at the bathroom real quick." I knew the cold water wouldn't have any effect by now, but my face started feeling hot again. I guess that's what four days without sleep does to you; gives you a temperature and makes you feel sick.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I shuffled my way down to wear I figured the challenge was; inside a giant glass playing field that hadn't been there before. Without thinking, I opened the door, walking over to the nearest bleacher (I didn't even care if it wasn't my team's, but thankfully, it was), and collapsed there.

I was going to sleep through this challenge if it killed me, and I let the rest of my team know that. "Wake me up," I warned, pointing at them, "And it'll be the last thing you do." Before any of them could respond, I fell asleep on the spot.

* * *

It barely felt like I'd slept at all when I felt something poke me on the back of my leg. Inwardly, I groaned, and thought, '_What now?_'

Then I felt something go up my nose, and grabbed it, half-hoping it was someone's arm. Fortunately for all involved, it was a stick. So, I snapped it in half, growling, and I immediately went to the closest person to me: Harold.

Sticking my finger in his chest, I said, "You'd better have a really good reason for sticking this up my nose." I glared. He nearly peed his pants.

But Courtney stepped in before I could do anything rash. "Look. We're down, two-nothing. I can appreciate that you need a little naptime, but we need your help." She put her hands on her hips, and, for all I glared, she glared right back.

I smirked. Nuh-uh. Wasn't gonna happen. "Oh, and why should I help you, **darling**?" I crossed my arms.

Her voice got sweet in response to my choice of words, and she smiled back. "Because I can personally guarantee you that if we lose this game, you'll be the one going home, **darling**." She said, then her face got closer to mine.

I had the words in my mouth. I had every intention of just copping out, calling the game quits, telling her 'fat chance,' throwing it all to luck and hoping that enough people liked me and wouldn't vote me out, or even by some stretch of luck that they won the challenge without my help.

But I couldn't do it. Looking straight in her eyes, I struggled to force the words out, but they were drowning in my throat and wouldn't resurface. Instead, what I got was a sigh, and "Fine. I'll play. On one condition: you do what I say, **when** I say it." She fell back, crossed her arms, grinned and nodded. "Alright. Here's a strategy I picked up during my first trip to Juvie. It's called 'Rush the New Guy.'" Then I grinned in fond remembrance, and punched a fist into the opposite hand.

'_What happened?_' I wondered curiously. I wasn't angry, though; while I wasn't feeling one-hundred per cent better, I'd power-napped at least enough to make it through the challenge. '_Why couldn't I tell her no?_'

* * *

"Everybody clear on what we gotta do?" I asked one more time. It really wasn't that complicated, but I had to be sure; I didn't want there to be any reason for me to go home. Not anymore. Not now that I had her trusting me with something, and her trusting me with **anything** was a good sign.

"We dodge, then we all target one person at a time. It's not rocket science." Courtney said, rolling her eyes. I smirked.

"Well, what can I say, it was harder to dodge when you were throwing people." I said sarcastically. She just rolled her eyes again, thinking I was lying.

And I was. But nobody here knew that.

* * *

And then Chef, sitting on a really high chair, blew his whistle; it was time for Round Three to start. Courtney, DJ, Geoff, the tan Wonder twin and I stepped onto the court. Courtney and I exchanged a determined glance; she was determined to win. I was determined not to get my butt sent home. It was a common goal, in retrospect.

On the other team, Beth, Justin, LeShawna, Owen and Izzy were all set up. From what I'd heard, Owen was particularly good at dodge ball, so I subtly signaled to everybody that he was our first target. It was all tactics; I didn't hold any grudge against Owen personally. He was a cool guy. He just happened to be a factor on my staying at camp.

Chef blew another whistle, and the game began.

* * *

We gave the other team the first two throws of the game; one was sent to Courtney, which she easily dodged, and the other targeted me, so I ducked, and it barely grazed the top of my head. The balls hit the other side of the court, and the tan twin picked them up, and tossed one to Courtney and the other to me. Geoff and DJ each picked up a ball, and in perfect sync, we cocked our arms back, and threw them at Owen.

He went straight down, and laid there for a minute. I bit my lip, and stood on tip-toe, trying to get a better look. Next to me, I heard Courtney mutter a short, "Yes!" before walking up to the line, looking as concerned as I was. She looked sincere, but this obviously meant we were in the clear for this round.

As Owen opened his eyes, I sighed, and Courtney looked relieved. Owen was okay. Our team then started cheering. While I felt proud of my handiwork, I couldn't help but feel suddenly faithful. It was nice to know that these people weren't so heartless as to be happy at someone on the other team's expense.

So I smiled, and nodded. This was my kind of day.

* * *

The next four were down quickly; they didn't even manage to hit us once.

Our first round was won; I couldn't help but revel in my own success. '_Once again, it's all thanks to Juvie that things work out for us, man._' The inner voice said. I smiled. '_Glad you're back, voice. It was getting kind of lonely in here._' I told him.

'_Well, I was letting you sleep. And, you know, trying to make this whole thing sound less insane. But you need me. I'm your common sense. You're nothing without me._' It said. I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

Smiling, Courtney stood in front of everyone and said, "I think we should do the same thing, all over again." She was very happy about our success. Oh yea. I wasn't going home tonight, that much was certain. "Harold, sit this one out too."

Yikes. Harsh. Not that I cared, though; he didn't seem the athletic type, anyways.

But he obviously wasn't as nonchalant about it as I was. "But I sat the last one out!" He complained.

"It's for the good of the team." She sort of sounded like a parent telling her child why he couldn't eat the yellow snow. 'It's not good for you, honey.' I chuckled. Poor guy. Courtney was sometimes overbearing on her good days, but today, she was sleep-deprived too, all of us were, except for Harold himself, and Tyler (who had somehow managed to sleep right through the snores).

He sighed, and Geoff patted him on the back.

* * *

Then there was a whistle, and that began another game. Trent, Beth, LeShawna, Izzy and Justin against Geoff, tan twin, Bridgette, DJ and me. Following my strategy, we won again, quickly; it was another game with absolutely no interference. We didn't lose a single player!

Again, I felt proud. This was because of ME. Our winning this game was entirely my fault. I was entitled to be happy, wasn't I? Even if we lost the challenge, I wasn't going home. If I was, I'd be furious.

Just as we won the game, we watched Tyler shuffle back inside. I saw Courtney look at him speculatively, then ask, "Where were you?"

"Nowhere!" He replied nervously, rubbing his head.

She wasn't biting. "You were with that blonde Gopher girl, weren't you?"

He wasn't about to tell her, but halfway through, he knew she wouldn't believe him. "No! ...Maybe! SO?" I rolled my eyes; even I knew it wasn't a good idea to challenge Courtney's authority complex like that.

"SO, she could have been getting you to spill all of our weaknesses to her!" She then gestured at said blonde Gopher girl, and her face fell. I looked over, and almost burst out laughing. I didn't, though, because then my eavesdropping would have been obvious.

Lindsay was currently holding up her hands, making them talk, and then nodding. '_I think she's having a conversation with them._' The inner voice choked out, laughing hysterically.

* * *

A few minutes later, while Courtney was chewing Tyler out about 'fraternizing with the enemy,' Chris came to the center of the sidelines and said, "Okay! This is it! The final, tie-breaking game! Good luck! Choose your players, and get your butts out there!"

We huddled up, and made one last strategy play.

"Okay." I said quickly. "Who's going in?"

Harold volunteered. "I think it's my turn."

Courtney, in her response, was kind of cruel. "No way! We actually have a chance to win this!" (It wasn't until much, much later, when I saw a rerun of that episode that I realized that there was a foundation for her cruelty.) As it were, Harold just nodded. I think he understood now that Courtney was not a force to be reckoned with.

* * *

And then Chef's whistle blew, and it was time to head in. "Gophers, Bass." Chris said, gesturing each way. "Let's send this sample to the lab, and see what you're made of!"

We ten filed out onto the court, Gwen, Cody, Heather, Owen, and LeShawna, versus Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Courtney and me, and the game began.

Heather's was the first throw of the game, aimed at DJ, who jumped and just missed it.

For some reason, my plan had been dropped, and it became a battle of who was targeting who; we dodged, we picked up, and we threw at the offending player. Cody was the first one out, but he hit Bridgette as he got hit, so he tagged in Beth, and Bridgette tagged in the tan twin.

Dodge-balls flew, and people subbed in and out. Finally, after making a direct hit, Geoff subbed Harold in. I felt nervous about this; I didn't know yet, but there had to be some reason that he'd submitted to sitting out all game, so I said, "Back of the court, princess." He sighed, and walked behind everyone else.

Then, I looked left to see Courtney get hit in the face. I glared at the other team, and focused on Gwen, who said, "That's for the oatmeal." LeShawna laughed.

"Oh! You messed with the wrong white girl!" She said, pointing as Courtney walked over to the bleachers and sat down.

Then Geoff got hit by LeShawna, so I hit her.

And then, I got hit by all three remaining members of the opposite team, and I collapsed on the ground; one of them hit me in the spot that dodge-balls should not hit.

DJ helped me up, and I sat on the bleachers in frustration. That wasn't cool. There was nothing cool about ganging up on the team's most (currently) handicapped player.

Cody jumped in front of a ball aimed at Gwen (his crush on her kind of weirded me out a little bit), and then DJ and Gwen threw one, and hit each other. They were out.

The only two left were Harold... and Owen. The Gopher's cheered.

Owen looked smug, and said, "Sorry dude, but you gotta go down."

I put my hand to my forehead, and said, "Goodnight, Harold."

There was a short pause, during which they both tensed themselves up, and suddenly Owen ran forward, and threw two balls at once, then the third, and then the last.

And Harold dodged them. All of them. The Gophers were silent, and so were we. We all stared, eyes wide open, and mouths even wider.

Whoa.

* * *

From my right, I heard Courtney say, "Time out! Time out!" Chef blew the whistle, and Harold marched off the court, and sat on the bleachers. We all stared at him in awe, impressed.

"Man, that boys got dodge!" I said amazedly. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

He took a drink of water, then accidentally spit it out on Tyler. He wiped his lips and smiled. "Figure skating."

"Harold." Geoff said seriously. "That was AWESOME! But dodging isn't enough."

"He's right." Courtney added, just as serious. "To win this, you either have to throw him out--"

"Which we all know you can't do." I added.

"--or catch the ball. Can you do it?" She asked hopefully.

Harold nodded, grinning widely. "Definitely." He then took another mouthful of water, and again accidentally spit it out on Tyler.

"Awesome!" said DJ. "Now go catch that ball!"

* * *

Then, the time-out was over, and Harold walked back onto the court. He looked nervous, but he looked resolved. Chef blew his whistle, and Owen picked up a ball.

"Harold! Harold!" Courtney started, and soon, the rest of us were chanting along with her. He had our full support. He could do this.

And if he didn't, well, that was fine. At this point, I was sure Courtney wasn't feeling too strongly towards Tyler to vote off either him or me.

Owen rolled his arm back, wind milled, and shouted, "Cowa... BUNGA!" Then threw it, quickly, at Harold.

In the last moment before the ball hit him, Harold's eyes went wide, and he braced himself. Then the ball hit him in the stomach, sending him reeling back until he hit the wall of the glass court, and slid down. From where we were, we couldn't tell if he had the ball or not....

Until he held it up.

* * *

Our response was instantaneous. While we ran over to Harold, Chef blew his whistle, and Chris said, "The Killer Bass win!"

We cheered, and picked Harold up, shouting and laughing and cheering for him. We walked him out of the court like that, and as we passed the Gopher team, we heard Owen shout, "Whyyyyyyy?!"

"Nice job, skater nerd!" I said happily, helping DJ support his weight. The kid was pretty light, so it wasn't difficult.

We walked out of the court like that, applauding and cheering all the way back to camp, where we put Harold down, and continued to celebrate by heading over to the Main Lodge and grabbing some sodas.

* * *

For the rest of the night, we sat in the guy's side of the cabin and had a low-key sort of party. It wasn't really a party, because there was no music or food or anything, but it was a celebration. This was the first challenge we'd won so far; we were entitled to a celebration.

I didn't want to be the guy to say it (and nobody ended up saying it, or maybe it was just me who'd noticed), but I had a feeling this wouldn't have been half as fun if Ezekiel or Eva were there.

Eventually, for lack of anything better to do, we started playing truth or dare.

Oh, what a night.

* * *

**P.S: **Expect the next part... soon. xP

And sorry for the abuse of the horizontal ruler. I just like giving your eyes a short break. :P


	9. In Which We Play Some Games

**A/N:** Hey, all. Finally got this one done. It took me a little longer than it should have, because I got done what I wanted to get done, then realized it was FAR too short. And like, the second I realized that, I had another idea, and... well, you'll see. :)

Personally, I loved this chapter, but that's just because the sport they play is my favorite sport. It's the best sport in my world. xD

But I digress. Here's the shout outs, because if I R Kelly goes to jail, I'll... Oh, wait. I shouldn't watch the Boondocks and type at the same time. :P  
Readers: Without you, I wouldn't bother to write.  
Reviewers/Alerters: Without you, I wouldn't bother to write well.

There aren't a lot of Duncan/Courtney moments in this chapter, but the few that there are are the best so far. I liked this chapter, so you probably will, too. :)

That being said, it's time ta go! Enjoy:

* * *

We sat in a circle, all nine of us. Geoff, Bridgette, Courtney, me, DJ, Harold, the Wonder twins, and Tyler, in that order. We started the conversation with why we'd joined Total Drama Island in the first place; Geoff was the one to start that particular topic.

"I joined 'cause I thought it would be cool, you know? Like a big party!" He said, then he got a glazed look in his eyes. "I love parties, dudes. Life's too short NOT to party, you know?"

The twins agreed. "We started because we thought it would be a fun thing to do together." The tan one said. Man, I really needed to get their names straight.

Bridgette smiled. "I don't know why I joined. My friends suggested I did it, so I did. I never thought I'd get in, though!"

"Me too." Tyler said. Then he grinned, and scratched the back of his head. "My audition tape was... kind of embarrassing." He chuckled. "I tried to show them some of my talent... and you all know what happened them."

I laughed. "My audition tape was kinda cool. It was all staged, so I was able to really trick it out."

Courtney was teasing when she asked, "What, were you breaking out of Juvie or something?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Uh... Actually, yea."

Geoff laughed. "Seriously, dude? That is so awesome! All I did was sit in a lawn chair and talk about parties! Dude, no WONDER they picked you, man!"

I shrugged, and smiled. "My Parole Officer helped me out a bit. Actually, he's the only reason I came here. He said that it might be a good idea for me to get out and meet some kids who weren't worse influences than I am."

We all had a good laugh over that; obviously, it hadn't worked too well. But these people didn't know the half of it; the worst they saw me was mouthing off or tagging trees, or carving stuff. I had a feeling they wouldn't be laughing if they saw some of the more serious things I've done....

But I waved those thoughts to the back of my head; I didn't want to think about it right now. I was having too good of a time.

* * *

Nobody mentioned Truth or Dare until DJ said that he'd joined, half for his mom and half as a dare. Then one of the twins jumped in and said, "Ooh, Truth or Dare! We should play!"

The other one agreed. "That would be SOOOOO fun!"

The rest of us looked around and shrugged. Nobody had any objections; why not?

The tan twin started the game. "Hmm..." She said, putting a finger on her lip and looking around the circle. "Who to pick... Bridgette!" Bridgette looked startled. "Truth or dare!"

Bridgette sat for a minute and contemplated her options. "I pick... truth."

The twin (probably both of them) were the kind whose truth questions centered around boyfriends and crushes, because every question she asked had something to do with that topic. "Do you have a boyfriend back home?"

I saw Geoff tense up, and I wondered how he would feel if Bridgette answered yes. Fortunately for him, she answered negatively. "Nah. I normally have better things to do at home. Like surfing, or working at the Snack Shack." She shrugged, then grinned, and looked around the circle.

I half-hoped she would pick Courtney, and ask her the question she'd just been asked, but no such luck; she chose Harold, and Harold picked dare.

"I dare you to... lick the floor." People gave her strange looks, and she said, "Hey, we don't know how often these floors got washed... if they ever got washed, that is."

Harold suddenly looked apprehensive, but eventually put his face to the floor and licked it in one long swipe. Where he licked, the floor looked darker than the rest of it; dirt covered Harold's tongue, and he tried to rub most of it off. We all laughed good-naturedly, and I said, "Poor guy's probably just been diseased."

Harold shuddered at the taste of the dust, and looked around the circle for his next target.

* * *

The game went on like that for a while. Both Courtney and I got picked several times (I chose Dare for each turn, and ended up having to eat tree bark, and I had to give everyone a compliment, like that was so hard; Bridgette was smart, Geoff was fun, DJ was cool, Harold was funny, the twins were neat and interesting, Tyler was a good guy, and I told Courtney she was boss; that earned me a laugh from everyone, and an eye roll (with a smile) from her). Courtney ended up alternating answers, and each Truth, nobody asked the question I wanted to hear. However, I did learn that she didn't learn to talk until she was four, and that her band was The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Finally, after far too long, it was Sadie's turn to pick, and she chose Courtney.

"Truth or Dare?" She asked excitedly. It was going on one-thirty in the morning, and I'll admit, I was starting to fall asleep, until Courtney answered Truth, and Sadie asked, "Do YOU have a boyfriend back home?"

My heart started beating, and I felt my body tense; I imagined that this was what Geoff felt like, and in my peripheral vision, I saw him looking at me, and I saw in him the expression that I'd given him only a little bit ago.

"Nope. No boyfriends for me." Then she sighed. "I get asked out often, though."

"Oh my gosh, really?" Katie asked.

Courtney nodded, and then laughed. "Oh man, like this one time, I was just about to leave school, and this guy named Trevor starts following me. Trevor was sort of like Ezekiel, only more sexist. So I ask him what he's doing, and he said he was going out with me." The she started laughing, and it was getting harder to tell what she was saying. Or maybe it was just because I was so relieved that it was rushing around in my ears. I didn't know which. "So I told him that he wasn't, and that I should have had some say in it, and he said, 'Wait... It's the girl's choice?'"

Everybody else started laughing, and I smirked. I hadn't caught the punch line; I couldn't hear it through my relief. '_She's still single._' I thought weakly. '_I have a chance._'

* * *

After a while, Harold wanted to go to sleep, so the rest of us (DJ, Tyler, the twins, Geoff, Bridgette, Courtney and I) moved the party outside. It was a warm, dry night, perfect for sitting outside. I smiled. Between challenges, down time was relaxing; it was what made me not regret deciding to come here.

After Harold went to bed, though, the dares went from 'eating unusual things' to the more typical teenage dares: kissing.

It was Courtney's turn to choose, and she chose Geoff. He obviously picked Dare, and was dared to kiss Bridgette. He flushed, and Bridgette flushed, and he leaned over and kisser her cheek, loudly. They both smiled, bright red, and Geoff contemplated who to choose next.

He ended up picking Katie, who chose truth.

"Hmm..." He asked, stroking his chin. Then he got it. "Do you like anybody on the island?" She'd earlier been asked if she liked anybody back home, and answered negatively.

However, now, she blushed, and nodded, but didn't say who; fortunately for her, Geoff hadn't been specific. However, now, she'd set herself up for her next question, supposing she chose truth.

Then Katie chose Tyler; Tyler ended up picking Truth, too. '_He didn't want to have to kiss anybody._' I thought, surprised.

'_Probably because of Lindsay._' Inner voice answered. I nodded. That made sense.

"Do you like that blond gopher girl?" Katie asked. Tyler smiled a small smile, looked at Courtney quickly, and then sighed, and nodded.

"Yea. Lindsay's pretty great." He said contently, smiling vaguely.

I had to ask. "Doesn't her being... well, not so bright... doesn't that bother you?"

He shrugged. "She's not very smart, no, but she's a good listener, and knows what to say. She's really cool when you actually talk to her." He said conversationally. I shrugged.

* * *

After a few more truths and dares, Sadie chose Courtney. Courtney chose Dare. It was the highlight of my night.

I had to remember to thank Sadie at some point or another during the game. Thank her somehow, some way.

"I dare you to kiss Duncan... on the lips!"

All was silent. We all stared at Sadie, who was grinning slyly. Katie was at her shoulder, saying, "Ooh, good Dare, Sadie!! I should have thought of that earlier!"

My eyes were wide; Courtney's were wider, and her face was slowly going red, but I didn't notice. I was watching Sadie, and thinking thoughts that I'm sure she had to have heard.

'_THANK YOU!_' I screamed in my head. Fireworks were going off; I was surprised my head didn't explode, such was the raucous that was going on in there. '_BY ALL THAT IS GOOD TO ME, THANK YOU!_'

Then we looked at each other. I now saw that her face was beet red, and her eyes were wide. I shrugged. "You know, you don't have you." Then I smirked. "It'll just mean you lose."

That got her, I think; which was the lesser of two evils? Losing (which she hated), or kissing me (who she said she hated, but nobody really believed)?

I guess it was losing, because she sighed, and leaned over, and hesitated before carefully pressing her lips to mine. Her lips were soft, and, being that close I was able to smell her; she smelled like vanilla. It was very pleasant.  
However, she quickly pulled away, blushing furiously.

That satisfied everyone, and they all ended up looking at me. I shrugged, and wore a bored expression. It was the polar opposite to how I was feeling inside, but if I were to show everybody that, they'd probably faint. Especially Courtney.

As it were, she was fire engine red. Shortly after that, she stood up, and claimed that she was going to bed. Bridgette must have gotten a contact-tired, because she went in very shortly after Courtney. Then DJ went in, and then I did. It was pushing three o'clock, and it was about time I got to sleep.

However, after I decided to get some sleep, everyone else decided to, too; four people was not enough to play a particularly exciting game of Truth or Dare.

Geoff followed me inside, and, instead of getting into his bunk and falling asleep, like everyone else, he and I stayed awake in our respective beds, and we ended up talking.

And of course we were talking about our respective love interests, like girls. Because that's what guys are, when they don't have to work to impress girls. Nothing but girls with extra pieces.

* * *

"I'm still surprised she actually kissed you, man." Geoff said. I nodded in agreement.

"She had to choose the lesser of two evils." I told him. "Losing, which she hates, or me, who she claims to hate." I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't think she hates me as much as she sometimes says she does."

Geoff nodded. "Definitely. You know, it was her idea to wake you up for the dodge-ball game today?" He said. I perked up.

"Really?" Well, there's a shocker.

He nodded. "Yea, dude!" Then he shook his head. "I was talking to Bridge about you guys, and she said that she thinks Courtney likes you." Then he looked sheepish. "Sorry, dude, but I kinda told her your secret."

I nodded. "I know. I heard you guys. It's fine, though, I don't think she'll tell Courtney. She seems like she can keep a secret." I shrugged, and lay down. "I dunno, man. This whole situation's just weird. I mean, I really like Courtney. A lot. But... well, we're gonna get off the island, and, are we ever gonna see each other again? Will she like me enough for us to keep, like, a long-distance relationship?" I looked over to Geoff. "You and Bridgette are going to have this problem, too. Are you guys going to be able to do that?"

Geoff shrugged. "I dunno, dude. Sometimes, I get the feeling that she thinks I'm an idiot." He chuckled nervously. "I mean, I guess I don't really do much to fix that, but still..." He trailed off. "If she likes me, and likes me enough for it to work, I'd be able to keep a long distance relationship, and we could just do our best to get into the same college or something."

I thought about that. Of course I would have to wait and see. That's just how the world worked.

* * *

The next day, I woke up at nine o'clock, and felt really disoriented; it was really light out for me to be waking up, so I felt like something was messed up. My entire day was going to be thrown off now; I wouldn't eat breakfast, and I'd be starving come lunch.

But for the first time in five days, I felt well rested; the bags under my eyes were still there (I was certain that they would never go away, no matter how hard I tried), but at least they weren't as prominent.

* * *

In an attempt to get my day back on track, I showered, brushed my teeth and cleaned my piercings quickly. I made it to the Main Lodge by nine-thirty, and forced down food, even though I wasn't that hungry.

Geoff was really energetic today, abnormally so. Maybe because it was the first time in almost a week that any of us got really good rest, but regardless. He was in a good mood.

"Hey, dudes, I feel like playing a game." He said, grinning and leaning back against nothing.

"What do you have in mind?" DJ asked curiously. "Like, a board game, or cards, or...?"

Geoff put on a frown at DJ's suggestions. "No, like, a game of football or something," he sighed. "But I don't know what I want to play."

I thought for a second. I, myself, wasn't in the mood for football or soccer. I'd had enough of dodge ball, and kickball seemed too juvenile. There weren't any bats, so baseball was out of the question, and there weren't any hoops, so we couldn't play basketball. We didn't have sticks or a puck, so hockey was out. "How about rugby?" I offered. I liked rugby, personally; it was, in my opinion, more aggressive than football.

DJ, Bridgette and Tyler looked up, grinning, but Geoff and the others looked confused. "Rugby? What's that?"

"It's like football," Tyler explained, "Only there are a few different rules." Then Tyler looked downcast. "But we don't have enough people for one team, let alone two. Plus, we don't have a rugby ball."

I shrugged. "We could just use a regular football." I'd done it before with my cousins and brothers at family reunions. I've done it in Juvie, too, just very rarely.

Geoff looked like he was thinking about it. "Well, who here would play?"

To my surprise, everyone raised their hands, including Courtney. Geoff smiled. "Well, then, how many people to a team?"

"Generally fifteen, but we could play short-handed." DJ said, and shrugged. "It's just for fun, after all." Then he looked at me, and said, "Good idea, man, I love rugby."

That surprised me, too. DJ had the build for sports, but he didn't have the competitive mentality. I guess I would have to wait and see.

Geoff smiled wider, then got up and walked over to the other team. "Hey, Gophers, you guys wanna play rugby? We want to put together a game, but we don't have enough people."

Only Izzy and Trent looked excited, and both agreed to play. The other Gophers were hesitant.

"What's rugby?" Owen asked nervously. I sighed.

"It's like football, with different rules." I said impatiently, walking over to Geoff. "We'll explain all the rules if you'll play."

All of the Gophers agreed, even (to everyone's surprise) Heather. I smiled, and cracked my knuckles.

This was going to be fun.

"Hey, Duncan, don't we need a ref, too?" Tyler called over.

I shrugged. "We'll just let it go. It's just for fun, we don't really need to follow the rules to the point."

* * *

We all returned to our respective cabins to change into different clothes, clothes that we didn't mind getting dirty, which I'd advised everyone to do. It felt weird having everybody listening to me. While I was used to people listening to me, I wasn't used to people doing what I said.

I changed into a pair of jean shorts and an old, already dirty t-shirt, then put my Chucks back on, and walked outside, following Tyler, who'd grabbed his football.

I felt suddenly excited. This was going to be really, really fun; I loved rugby more than most other sports, and the fact that Courtney was playing didn't lessen the matter. However, I was a little worried that she might get hurt; rugby is a very physical sport, and injuries were common and unsurprising. I didn't want her to get hurt, but I did want her to play. It was quite the dilemma.

* * *

"Alright. Rugby." I said, standing in front of the other campers, who were all watching me with undivided attention. Tyler and DJ stood to one side of me, and Bridgette to the other to help me explain anything in case I forgot, and for demonstration. "The first rule of rugby is that you absolutely, absolutely **must **pass backwards. You can't throw the ball forward, at all." I tossed the ball to Bridgette, and said, "Run that way." I pointed to my right (the opposite side from where she was standing), and she did. I followed, and she tossed the ball backwards to me.

"You have to pass that way. You have no other option." I finished.

"Okay. Now, if someone's been tackled who has the ball, you have to form a ruck." I told them. Bridgette fell to the ground, and I walked over, Tyler and DJ accompanying me. "The ruck is pretty easy. If you're the one tackled, just do what Bridgette did. Make sure you push the ball away from you, but not too far away." I said, then I stood next to DJ, and we put an arm around the other and grabbed the other's shirt. Tyler pushed himself between us, and we pretended to form a ruck. "Imagine there's another team on the other side of us, in the same formation as us, pushing against us. Whichever team gets both feet over the ball first wins the ruck, and someone has to hurry up and take the ball, or else the other team can just swoop in and grab it." Then, I held up a finger and said, "If there's nobody immediately around to form a ruck against, you can pick up the ball and run with it."

Geoff, however, looked uneasy. "Uh... what about the dude where Bridgette is? What does that guy do?"

"They try to crawl out of the ruck." I said simply. "And if they don't, they get stepped on."

Geoff looked nervous, and I said, "Honestly, it's not that bad. Unless Owen here steps on you." I teased. Owen chuckled.

"When you get tackled, and nobody's around at ALL, it's anyone's ball; either of the two involved in tackling can pick it up." I wasn't sure if those were the official rules, but hey, this game was just for fun!

"Now, if someone comes and tries to tackle you, but you don't go down, you form what's called a 'maul.'" I explained. I had the ball and ran towards Tyler, who tried to tackle me. It didn't work (obviously), so I turned and faced DJ and Bridgette. "You turn towards your team, and try to give someone else the ball, all the while pushing forward."

"Uh, what do you push forward for?" Courtney asked. I looked her straight in the eye when I answered. '_She has to know._' I thought desperately. '_There's no way she can't know how I feel about her...._'

"To gain meters." I said. "It's like football, sort of. You want to get as close to the end zone as you can, so you can score." She nodded, and I almost accidentally smiled.

"Hey, Duncan, man, how do you want to form the scrums?" DJ asked. I bit my lip. That was a bit of a toughie. It wasn't that we didn't have enough people for a small scrum, but it would be difficult because nobody would know what to do.

"We could just not do them? Have a short kick-off instead." Bridgette offered. I considered that.

'_It might take more time,_' The inner voice said. '_But it would work out better._' So I nodded. "Yea, that sounds better." Then I addressed the rest of the team. "We're going to play mostly by ear, here, so we'll just have to wait and see for most of the rules." I said apologetically.

"And one more thing." I said just as people were getting impatient. "In football, if you get tackled in the end zone, and you still have the ball, you score a point." I chuckled. "Not in rugby. In rugby, you have to set the ball down yourself." I grabbed the ball, half-squatted, and placed the ball down. "That's how it works. You have to do it that way, or it doesn't count as a point, and you have to start the play over from where you started." I looked around at everybody, and said, "Any questions?"

"Just one." Heather raised her hands. I heard someone groan. "You say this is a tackle sport?" I nodded, and she continued, "What do we do when Owen gets the ball? Because I'm pretty sure nobody's going to be able to tackle him." Everybody looked at Owen, and Owen looked apologetic.

I grinned. "Oh, you'd be surprised. If you're able to, tackle at the knees." I explained. "If you run at somebody head on, and wrap around their stomach, you're not going to get very far. But if you aim low, and are able to wrap your hands around the knees, you can trip them up, and they'll fall." Then I looked around the group again and said, "Anymore questions?" None. I grinned, then addressed the other people who'd played rugby before. "Okay. Now we gotta set boundaries." I looked around for anything that we could use as a natural boundary, but as it were, I wasn't having any luck; there weren't any rocks around, or trees or stumps.

"We could grab some stuff from the cabins, and just set them down." Tyler suggested. "If it's just for fun, we don't need a regulation-sized field." I nodded, and he, Bridgette, and Harold ran back to our cabin and came back with a bunch of empty suitcases and duffle bags.

They quickly ran about fifty meters away, and set down a duffle bag each, then another ten meters and set down another two bags to mark the end zone. I grabbed a suitcase and put it at the roughly twenty-five meter mark. They ran forty meters in the same direction from the bags they'd just put down, and put down another bag at each interval. Then they looked at me, and grinned. Tyler gave me a thumbs-up.

I crossed my arms and grinned. "Now, then. Let's divide into two teams."

* * *

There weren't many of us who knew how to play rugby, and those of us that did were spaced out on the two separate teams: Izzy, Trent, DJ, Bridgette, Tyler and me. So we decided that, for this game, we could merge teams, and separate accordingly, so that each team had equal amounts of players who knew what they were doing.

We eventually decided that it would be Izzy, Bridgette, Tyler, Katie and Sadie, Cody, Heather, Geoff and Lindsay against DJ, Owen, LeShawna, Courtney (I specifically made sure she was on my team, so that anyone who hurt her would go down), Harold, Gwen, Trent, Justin, Beth and me. Because my team had more players, we got to kick to the other team.

And after I kicked the ball off, it was war.

* * *

Bridgette ended up catching the ball first, and just as DJ was about to tackle her, she passed it to Geoff, who instinctively knew to run up and catch it. I targeted him, and tackled him, and quickly started a ruck, to which Bridgette and Izzy began to push against. Combined, they were able to start pushing me back, and Geoff crawled out from under us.

"I NEED HELP OVER HERE!" I shouted; I was losing. Already my one foot over the ball had been pushed back, and the two girls managed to get one foot each over it. DJ ran up next to me, and together, we pushed back over it. Courtney came up from behind us, and grabbed the ball and started to run. I quickly broke away from DJ and ran after her.

For the most part, Courtney was a fast runner, and was tactful in rolling away from people who could have tackled her.

However, her luck ended when Katie ran up and tackled her at the knees, like I'd suggested. As I watched Courtney fall to the ground and set the ball away from her, I regretted having said anything about tackling.

There wasn't anyone there to set a ruck, so I stepped over Courtney, picked up the ball and ran. I was almost at the end zone, too, and suddenly, from behind, Trent grabbed my legs, and I fell.

"Dude, you're on my team!" I yelled. He backed off, arms up in surrender, and I quickly stood up, making sure to be standing completely before I grabbed the ball and ran.

Since I'd outran everyone else, I managed to get down to the end of the field and set the ball. My team cheered, and Trent ran up to me.

"Hey, sorry man. I forgot you were on my team. I'm used to it being Gopher versus Bass." He said apologetically. I held up and arm and shook my head.

"It's cool, dude. No hard feelings." I said, and grinned.

* * *

We'd been playing for a while, but none of us (even the less fit players) were tired. We were having a good time, as a group. Even Heather didn't have anything to complain about, not when she got tackled and got her clothes and hair dirty, or when she accidentally got stepped on by Gwen. She even smiled, a lot. It was all in good fun.

However, there was one point during the game that I wasn't bound to forget anytime soon (nor did I want to). I'd been running down the field after Geoff, who had the ball, and I looked next to me to see Courtney, running next to me, both of us after Geoff. We were fast, but unfortunately, he was faster, and at the same time, Courtney and I dived to try to trip him up. But Geoff was too quick; he jumped out of our grasp, accidentally clipping my chin. While he continued to run, Courtney and I tumbled, collided, and ended up on the ground, her on top of me.

When I finally caught my ground, I looked up at her to see her eyes full of concern.

"Are you okay?" She asked. I grabbed my chin, but it didn't hurt, and it wasn't bleeding, so I nodded.

"Yea, I'm fine." I said. She nodded, stood up, and offered me her hand, while the other team ran forward, cheering; Geoff just scored.

It hadn't really been a big deal at the time (at the time, she'd just been another team mate, worried about the strength of her team), but when I thought about it later, she hadn't asked anybody else if they'd been okay after a possible injury, not even Harold, who'd actually gotten injured.

Maybe I read too much into it, I don't know. But I do know that she was definitely concerned about me, whether it be for her own benefit or the team's, and that was what mattered.

* * *

After that, the game went smoothly. The non-rugby players caught on quickly, and soon, it started getting more and more brutal until (without surprising anyone) Harold managed to get himself injured. It wasn't serious; just a sprained ankle. He wouldn't be at a disadvantage for long, but his getting injured put off a few other players, so after that, we called it quits.

I was disappointed that our game had to come to a close, but I was relieved, too; I'd somehow convinced myself that Courtney was going to get hurt, but she hadn't. Quite the contrary; she was just as disappointed as I was that we had to stop, with the score 7 to 4. My team had won.

* * *

However, at the end of the game, we all were muddy and smelly, and there was a bit of a fight over who got to the showers first. It was the kind of communal shower that had doors so that nobody could peek in, but still, the girls were apprehensive. So, in an act of gallantry, none of the guys headed straight there, and the girls showered in peace.

The rest of the guys (minus Harold) instead sat on the porch of the Bass cabin and talked about the game.

"Dude, when did you learn to play rugby?" Geoff asked me.

I grinned. "I have a cousin who plays on his team at college, and every year at the family reunions we play a game. I've been playing since I was five or six." I shrugged. I looked at Owen, who had surprised everyone by being pretty good. "Are you sure you've never played before?"

Owen nodded. "Yea. But it was a lot like football." He shrugged, and chuckled.

Cody laughed nervously. "Yea, it was pretty easy. Really fun. My school had a rugby team, but I, uh... I've never really played any sports." He laughed nervously again. I figured he was just an overall nervous kid.

I nodded. "Mine, too. But I wasn't generally in school often enough to join any teams, and when I was, I wasn't qualified. You have to be passing more than half of your classes and gym to try out, and generally, the only things I'm passing are literature and gym." I chuckled.

DJ smirked. "What do you DO that gets you in Juvie all the time?" he asked, and the rest of the guys leaned in to listen.

I was reluctant to give them an answer. I mean, I'd been sent to Juvie for several things, but I wasn't sure I wanted to tell them certain ones. There was a lot of things in my past that I wasn't proud of, and that I'd rather keep between me, my parents, my parole officer and court. So I bit my lip, and tried to shrug the question off by laughing nervously and saying, "Ehh, I've been in there way too many times for a whole bunch of different reasons." I said, scratching my neck.

"Like what?" Harold asked, an Ace bandage wrapped around his ankle.

To prevent anybody from asking any more questions, I clenched my fist, and said, "Like beating up a guy who asked me too many times what I got sent to Juvie for."

Harold held up his arms in surrender. "Hey, man, relax, gosh! I was just asking!"

I put my arm down, and looked away. I knew he was just asking, but I was extremely averse to answering that question. These guys, if they didn't like me, at least respected me. I'd rather it stayed that way.

After a while, the girls came out of the showers, so the guys filed in. In my shower, I had to whistle to keep my mind off of things that I didn't want to think about. Like that there was a chance that he was in the shower Courtney was just naked in....

However, I did end up getting through my shower without thinking too inappropriately, and by the time I was dressed, it was about time to go eat lunch.

* * *

Today's lunch looked almost exactly the same as today's breakfast; brown, chunky and disgusting. However, none of us said anything; our first day here was fresh on everyone's memory, and nobody wanted to take a knife to the head any time soon.

Over lunch we all talked about the game we'd just played. For the first time (and last), the two teams pushed their tables together and ate lunch as a group. There was a complacent feeling about it. Complacent, but disappointing, too. It was nice eating lunch as a group; Heather was actually nice, and we all got along. But it wouldn't last. The second we pushed our tables apart again would signify the division of our teams. We were friends here and now. Tomorrow, we'd go right back to hating each other.

I was oddly sad about that, especially considering that I'd never liked many of them in the first place.

At the end of the meal, we pushed our tables back apart, and the change was almost tangible in the air; we weren't friends, and we weren't teammates. We were competitors, and should accord ourselves as such. It astounded me, though, that we could go from being akin to friends one minute, and enemies again the next.


	10. Not Quite Famous

**A/N:** Alrighty. Well... here I am with another chapter. It's... going on six-thirty AM. I'm dog tired. YAWN.

Uhh... (Why did I stay up this late writing?) I don't know why this is out so soon. I think I'm way too excited to get to certain other chapters that I worked myself to near-death-feeling.  
Is it weird that, while I sit here and write this, I'm feeling my face contort to accommodate the bags under my eyes?

Whatever. I got this part done, and I happen to just love it to pieces. That's what counts.

So, the regular shout outs:  
Readers: ((insert a comment about how much I love you))  
Reviewers/Alerters: ((insert a comment about how I love you more. It's a proven fact. Scientifically.))

Well... Here you are, then. :)

* * *

The morning of the next challenge, I woke up feeling absolutely amazing. I wasn't sure why (though I had a theory), but I'd been waking up feeling really good for the past couple of days; those four or five days without sleep had really taken their toll. Getting sleep now felt better than... well, a lot of things, actually.

After the day of the rugby game, I started waking up at seven again. I liked this better; it was something I was used to, and it made me feel more comfortable, knowing that I didn't have to worry about force-feeding myself.

This meant that I was already showered and dressed when Chris' voice came blasting out of the loudspeaker bright and early the morning of our next challenge. "Alright campers!" It started familiarly. "Enough beauty sleep! Time to show us what you're made of!"

* * *

Like nearly every morning, I was one of the first ones in the Main Lodge. I walked over to the table and took a seat, after nodding once at Chef, who had looked over curiously. Chef didn't like me, especially. Out of all the campers, I noticed that his reaction to me was less polite than to any other camper (or, at least as polite as Chef was capable of being). That being said, after I nodded at him, I saw him almost scowl before looking away.

I'd ended up sitting on the side of the table where I could see people come in, and I was surprised (though not displeased) to see that the next person in was Courtney, who blushed, and almost left again. Ever since she'd been forced to kiss me during that game of Truth or Dare, she avoided me like the plague.

'_She must be feeling really hung-up about it._' The inner voice said.

'_What do you mean by that?_' I asked, confused. It must have meant something really different by hung-up, because in context, that didn't make much sense to me.

'_Well, it must have been really awkward for her, you know? It's probably been on her mind all weekend._' The inner voice said patiently. A part of me wanted to believe that I'd been on her mind all weekend, and most of me did believe it. But a tiny fraction of me decided to be pessimistic.

'_I don't think it made her feel awkward. I think she just hates us._' A tiny piece of my mind said, to which the inner voice replied, '_Shut up. You know we don't believe that._'

And really, I didn't. I don't know how it'd happened, but I'd somehow convinced myself that she didn't hate me as much as she claimed she did. All I needed was some proof, and I would say that to her face....

"It didn't mean anything, you know." She said from the complete other side of the table. I glanced up at her, surprised to hear her talking.

"What didn't mean anything?" I asked calmly.

"That... the..." She tried twice, and faltered. "That dare? It was just a dare, it didn't mean anything."

"Really? Been thinking about it a while, have you?" I insinuated, smirking. '_Oh yea._' Inner voice said. '_She's been thinking about us all weekend._'

She got defensive. "No! It's just that now seems the proper time to tell you, considering that I've barely seen you these past few days, and when I did, other people were around."

"You mean, considering you've been avoiding me these past few days." I accused, teasing. The fact that she was getting defensive only convinced me even more that what had happened had been on her mind for a while. That, and the fact that she couldn't even say 'the kiss.' She liked me. She had to. Even if she was fighting against it, even if every fiber of her being didn't want to, she liked me, and she hated me as much as she could for it.

"I have NOT been avoiding you!" She shouted. I smirked and shook my head.

"Whatever floats your boat, Princess." I said airily, as if it didn't matter to me. At that moment, a couple people walked in, and Courtney turned in her seat to see Gwen, Trent and Geoff walk in, conversing happily. Gwen looked a little irritated, but Trent and Geoff were talking and joking like they were best pals.

I was kind of glad to see that the truce that had been made a couple days ago hadn't been completely forgotten. It had been eating away at me that people on two separate teams had to hate each other for no other reason than that they weren't on the same team.

Another example of this was Tyler and Lindsay, but that was a completely different story.

* * *

During breakfast, we had a short visit from Chris. All he'd said was, "After breakfast, meet me at the amphitheater for instructions on your next challenge."

"Well, what IS the challenge?" asked Heather. She'd unintentionally asked that for all of us.

Chris just smiled. "Oh, you'll see." Then he got a devious expression on his face, and walked out.

The nervous feeling I got in the pit of my stomach was shared by everyone. It was evident on all of our faces.

* * *

However, the anxiety was completely for nothing. Today's challenge was actually one of the least torturous ones. It was a relieving break from all the crap we'd had to do over the past couple of weeks.

"Welcome to our brand new, deluxe, state-of-the-art, outdoor amphitheater!" Chris said in greeting. "Okay, this week's challenge is a summer camp favorite: A talent contest!"

This was met with a cheer from Owen. "Yes!" He stood up and pointed at Chris. "Awesome!"

Chris smiled at him. "Each team has eight hours to pick their three most talented campers. These three will represent them in the show tonight. Sing, dance, juggle; anything goes!" The he looked at me, and squinted suspiciously. "As long as it's legal."

I guess that ruled out anything I was good at. Disappointed, I snapped my fingers.

Chris carried on. "You'll be judged by our resident talent scout, former DJ, BJ and rap legend, Grand Master Chef, who will show his approval via the Chef-O-Meter." Then he pointed upwards to nothing.

'_They're probably going to add something in later, in editing, to format the TVs._' I thought in explanation.

"The team that loses will send one camper home tonight." He went on to say. Then he waved, started walking away, and said, "Good luck!"

Well, that took care of that.

* * *

Later, the rest of my team and I found ourselves hanging out on the opposite side of our cabin, while the Gophers headed back to their cabin. Katie and Sadie had just returned from grabbing their boom box from inside the cabin, and were now showing us a dance they'd put together before coming to TDI.

They were awful. Obscenely bad.

One look at Courtney's face convinced me that that was a no.

Next was Tyler, who'd gone to the cabin to grab his yo-yo. For the most part, he was alright... until he tried to end it with a showy trick that completely messed the rest of it up, not to mention completely tied himself up in his yo-yo string. Courtney (who'd taken it upon herself to be in charge of the auditions) put her palm to her face. I was guessing that was a no.

Tyler looked apologetic, and went to the bathroom to attempt to untangle himself.

After Tyler was gone, Courtney went into the cabin and brought back an instrument case. I looked at it in curiosity; it was in a square case, and it gave no clue as to what it was. But then she opened it, and it turned out to be a violin.

'_Of course she plays an instrument like that._' The inner voice said amusedly. '_You chose right when you picked her nickname._'

As it turned out, Courtney was a really good violinist. I didn't know what she was playing, but once she picked it up, all that came out of it was music; by the look on her face, not a single sour note.

Bridgette, who Courtney had asked to judge her, was smiling. "Of course you're in, Courtney, that was amazing."

Courtney, who was still playing, shook her head, as if being shaken from a trance. "What?"

"You're in." Bridgette repeated. Courtney smiled.

"Thanks, Bridgette!" She said, and then put her violin back in it's case. Once the violin was out of sight, though, her expression changed from content to apathy, and she said, "Okay, who else is trying out?"

After that, DJ asked to try out, and Courtney agreed. He came back with a ribbon and dressed in a white leotard.

I should have figured.

Anyways, DJ turned out to be really good with interpretive dance. Really, really good. He was definitely in. Courtney was reluctant, but agreed. "Fine. Sign him up. Next!"

Bridgette looked excited, and said, "Oh, me!" Then she looked proud. "I can stand on my hands for twenty minutes. Watch!" She proceeded to carefully balance herself on her hands. It was actually pretty impressive, but Courtney wasn't as malleable.

"Okay, that'd be cute if you were a monkey. I just don't think that's quite what we're looking for. Next!"

Harold stepped over from next to me. I smirked, in anticipation of what he was going to do, and he had barely taken a deep breath when Courtney said, "Next!"

"Aww!" Harold let out, then, disappointed, returned to his post next to me.

After Harold came back, Geoff grabbed his skateboard from the cabin. I chuckled. Of course Geoff of all people would know how to skateboard.

He was actually really good, too. Even Courtney was impressed.

Bridgette smiled. "Well, I guess it's Geoff, DJ's ribbon thing and your solo."

Geoff was excited. "I'm gonna be on TV, man!" I raised an eyebrow. He had to be joking. He wasn't **that** stupid, was he?

Bridgette seemed to think so. "You're... already on TV, Geoff."

Geoff was playing along (he had to be!) when he said, "Oh, yea!" Then he ran up to the camera, and shouted, "Hello, out there, dudes!"

* * *

After the auditions, we headed over to the stage so that our three competitors could practice with their given space. Courtney stood off to another side, practicing her violin in her own little world. She was completely absorbed. Her focus was intense. I half-wondered if she was like that with everything she threw herself into.

DJ practiced for a few minutes, saying, "I've done this on stage before. I should be fine." Then he smiled, and challenged me to a game of cards.

After playing for a few minutes, Geoff, sitting on the edge of the stage examining the bolts on his board, said, "So, can you really stand on your hands for twenty minutes?"

Bridgette smirked, and held up a bar of chocolate. "Wanna bet that I can't?"

Geoff was quick to take the bait. "Oh, you're on!"

Harold agreed. "I'll take a piece of that action."

DJ grinned. "Yea, that's like, virtually impossible!" He said, and showed me the card he was about to put down. But I wasn't really paying attention. Our game was almost over anyways.

Bridgette just kept smirking. "Ante up!"

* * *

We all threw in a couple dollars, including Tyler, who finally came back from the bathroom, looking smug. With all our money in the pool, Bridgette smirked, and looked at me, pointing at my watch. "Okay. Twenty minutes, starting... now!" She said, then pushed herself into a hand-stand.

Unfortunately, she pushed too hard, and had to walk a few steps on her hands to gain her balance. She bumped Courtney, who came out of her trance to see what was going on, and Bridgette walked right over to a piece of rope that was hanging ominously from the rafters.

Her leg then got tangled, and, in an effort to shake it off, walked back towards the rest of us, grumbling.

Somehow, it untangled another string, and the last thing we saw was a light come crashing down... right over Courtney.

* * *

My heart almost stopped until I saw that she'd gotten out of the way... but her violin didn't. Bridgette looked horrified. "Oh, crap!"

I looked at the now-smashed violin, then looked for Courtney, and raised an eyebrow to see that she'd fallen backwards, and hit her head on the ground.

She stood up, and groaned. "Ow! Oh, my head." She sat up, and looked around, catching her bearings. Then she looked at her violin, and her expression slowly changed to horrified. She tried to stand up, but started to wobble. Once she caught her balance, she walked over to the light fixture that was sitting heftily on her violin.

Geoff bit his lip. "I think she needs to go to the medical tent."

I nodded. "Yea, I think you might be right." I sighed, and walked forward. "I'll take her. I'm not doing anything better." I walked forward, and said, "Come on, Princess. To the medical tent."

But she wouldn't move. "But... my violin!" She protested.

"I'm sorry, but brain damage is more important than your violin." I said seriously. I expected her to argue, but she just sighed, and complied.

* * *

We were walking silently towards the medical tent. Her head was bowed, and her arms were crossed over her chest. I walked with her, not saying anything, until I heard her sniffle.

'_...Is she crying?_' The inner voice asked. I felt a little guilty, so I voiced my question.

"Princess... Are you... are you crying?" I asked incredulously.

She turned away, and said thickly, "No!" I grabbed her chin and gently forced her to look at me.

She was.

She jerked out of my grip, and angrily said, "Well, what do you care?"

I looked at her sympathetically. "Well, you're upset, and I did bother to walk you to the medical tent." I pointed out.

She looked at me reluctantly, and said, "Well, it's just... I've had that violin for years. I'm sort of attached to it." Fresh tears poured down her face. "And now it's broken, and now I have to get a new one, and they cost so much, and I'm going to have to save up forever, and--" She stopped babbling when I companionably put my arm around her shoulder.

"It'll be okay." I said calmly, not looking at her, though I could feel her eyes on my face. "It's just a violin. It could have been worse."

"Could have been worse?" She asked me, confused. "That violin was my life!"

I grinned, even though grinning was the last thing I'd wanted to do. "Well, it could have been you that was smashed to pieces. You can't exactly tell me that would have been better."

In my peripheral vision, I saw her smirk. "I didn't know you cared." She said sarcastically.

I groaned, and shook my head. Of course she would have had to say that. "How many times have I told you, Princess? Dying is not an option for you."

She sighed, and rolled her eyes. Then she said, "You know, I'll be honest. I don't think that's your motive behind wanting me alive."

I was intrigued, and a little surprised. "Oh?" I asked, a cautious tone of surprise laced in my voice. "Do, go on."

"I think you just don't want me dead. I think you like me." She said, accusing and goading at the same time.

I smirked. '_I knew it._' The inner voice said happily. '_I knew she knew!_'

As it were, I used sarcasm. "Oh, yea, Courtney. I love you." I said, rather obnoxiously. '_If only she knew it were true._'

She sighed. "Well, you don't have to be a jerk about it." She mumbled.

I chuckled. "And what about you?" I asked, now being the accusing one.

"What about me?" She asked, noticing my tone and immediately getting defensive.

I smirked, and kept looking ahead. "I happen to think that you like me." I said calmly, not looking at her, even though I knew her gaze was on me.

She glared, but blushed. "What?! I don't like you! How could you possibly think that?!" She sounded sincere, but I could just detect an almost nervous air underneath the confidence.

I smirked. "Oh, there are several reasons." I said vaguely. Then she smirked.

"Oh yea? Like what?"

I grinned, took a deep breath, and cracked my knuckles. "Well, for starters, every time I mention it, or someone else even so much as hints at it, you blush. Furiously. Another one is, during that rugby game we played a couple days ago? Remember when we both tried to tackle Geoff, and ended up tumbling? You asked me if I was okay, but you hadn't asked anybody else, all game. The third being that this morning, when you told me that that kiss didn't mean anything, there had to have been some foundation for it. You had to have been thinking about it, for some period of time at least."

She just continued to blush. "There was no foundation for it! I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea!" She said, too defensively.

"And the last thing," I continued like I hadn't heard her. "Every time somebody mentions it, you get defensive. A little **too** defensive, if you catch my drift." I said, and sighed. "Face it, Courtney. You like me."

Then she came back with a good argument. "You know, you looked into that an awful lot." She said accusingly.

I shrugged. "I'm a guy. Of course I look into it."

She grumbled, and we reached the medical tent. Chef was sitting in there, writing something on a piece of paper. I guessed that this was his job when he wasn't cooking.

"What's the problem?" He asked carelessly.

"Courtney fell on her head." I said, pointing at her. Chef nodded, and immediately grabbed a small flashlight. I stayed, and stood in the door of the tent while Chef looked at it in Courtney's eyes. He then proceeded to ask her a few questions, and ended up wrapping her head with gauze, because of a very large bump she had on the back of it.

"What's the gauze for?" Courtney asked.

"If anything else hits the back of your head, you could get a concussion. As it is, you lucked out. You're fine. Just be careful." He said, wrote something in a ledger, and said, "You're free to go."

Courtney nodded, and stood up. Then she looked at me, and glared. I still wouldn't look at her. "You didn't have to stay, you know."

I shrugged. "Just making sure you weren't gonna die. Somebody would have to tell the others." I said, and smirked.

"Ugh!" She yelled, and stomped her way back to the amphitheater. I walked quickly behind her, grinning the entire way.

* * *

However, once we got back, she slowed down, and I caught up. In our conversation, she'd forgotten about her violin (which I'd intended). But now we had to head back, and she had to see the full extent of the damage.

Geoff and DJ had had the sense to lift the light, and Katie and Sadie had picked up all the pieces and put them in a baggie, except the bigger pieces, which consisted of most of the violin. Courtney looked at the pieces of her treasured violin, and started to cry again. She grabbed the two largest pieces from Katie, and sat down on the stage steps, and held them together, as if hoping that it would magically fit back together.

At that point, I had to leave. I knew it was selfish, but I couldn't stand to see her that upset. I left it up to Katie and Sadie to try to console her. Harold and Tyler were nowhere to be found, but Geoff and DJ came with me.

"Bridgette went back to the cabin." Geoff explained. "She feels really bad about breaking Courtney's violin."

I bit my lip. "Courtney's kind of torn up about it, too. Apparently, she's had that violin since she was a kid. She was really attached to it, but...." I trailed off. They understood; now, she's not.

Then I shook my head, and said, "But I've got something to tell you guys." I said, grinning. "I'll tell you back at the cabin."

Geoff nodded. "Good, because we have to tell Bridgette that Courtney's back there. She wants to apologize." He said in explanation.

I was apprehensive. "I dunno... I'm not so sure that's a great idea."

DJ nodded, but shrugged. "Well, you know Bridgette. Until she apologizes, she's not gonna have any peace with herself."

* * *

We returned to the cabin to find Bridgette sitting on the stairs, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up at me, and said, "Where is she?"

I looked over my shoulder and pointed at the amphitheater, and said, "She's back at the stage, but I don't think--" I was interrupted when she ran past me, in a hurry to get over there. I called after her, "I don't think it's a good idea!"

She didn't listen. I sighed, and shook my head. '_Girls._' The inner voice said lightly. '_What're you gonna do?_'

"So, you had something to say?" Geoff asked curiously. I nodded.

"In the cabin." I said, glancing over to the Heather and Lindsay who were sitting outside the Gopher cabin. They weren't listening, but they could start.

* * *

I relayed to Geoff and DJ the entirety of my conversation with Courtney, including every detail.

For the most part, they weren't surprised. "We sort of figured she liked you." DJ said, and Geoff nodded. "I just don't think that, with her personality, she's going to easily accept that she liked a guy like you." He said, then quickly added, "No offense."

I shook my hand. "None taken. I agree, actually, that's what I've been thinking." I sighed, and shook my head. "I just wish she'd hurry up and admit it already. One of us could get voted off at any time, and I don't want her to realize that she likes me after it's too late."

* * *

I decided that I was going to chill for a little bit by myself before going back to the amphitheater. It wasn't that I wanted to really have a quiet think (it was actually exactly the opposite; I wanted to have some time to clear my head), but I really wanted her to have some time to think about what had gone on today.

'_Well, she knows._' The inner voice said. '_She definitely knows, and nothing you said was going to make her change her mind. She's too stubborn._' I grinned and exhaled sharply.

'_She didn't need to change her mind about how I feel, though. That wasn't the point._' I told the voice. '_The point was that she needs to confront her own feelings. I know she likes me, that much is fact. She just doesn't know it yet._' I frowned.

Why was this so complicated?!

* * *

I eventually made my way back to the amphitheater when my watch said it was five-thirty. We still had half an hour, but I didn't want to completely miss it, so I headed back a little early.

As I returned, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Courtney look at me. I couldn't tell what her expression was, so I just barely moved my eyes in her direction.

She looked scrutinizing. Like she was trying to add something together but it just wasn't coming out the way it should. I held back a smirk, and sat next to Tyler and Harold on the Killer Bass' side of the stands. Katie and Sadie were sitting on lower seats, talking and giggling over something or other.

I ended up not talking to either of them the entire time; they were talking to each other about some TV show or something. Tyler asked me if I'd ever seen the show, and I said that I hadn't, and they ended up leaving me alone for the rest of the half hour.

And during that half hour, I watched Courtney closely. Not in a creepy sort of way; it was just that my full attention was devoted to her, without her knowing it. A few times, she looked at me, but I was too far away for her to be sure I was looking at her; my head was turned in a different direction, so to think that I was (true or otherwise) would have been slightly egocentric.

However, she knew. She knew how I felt about her, so maybe she figured I was anyways?

Whatever. I didn't really care anymore. Her knowing how I felt might just help push things along. For the sake of my nerves, I refrained from thinking that it might be a hindrance as well.

* * *

Half an hour later, Chris came over to the stage, followed by the camera crew. While they set up, Chris smiled at the competitors. "Ready, everyone?" He hardly waited for a response before continuing. "Great! Now, you're obviously not able to see the Chef-O-Meter, but we've set up a sound booth that'll beep for each point you got out of nine. Alright?" Again, he didn't wait for a response. "Awesome. Now that that's out of the way, get off the stage!" He said, and pointed in each direction. Surprised, the campers shuffled to the wings of the stage, and the cameras were turned on.

Chris began the show with a smile.

"Iiiit's the TDI talent extravaganzaaaaa!" He yelled. "Welcome to the very first Camp Wawanakwa talent contest, where six campers will showcase their mad skills and desperately try not to humiliate themselves. First up for the Screaming Gophers is Justin." He said, then gestured while walking off to the wings.

Justin stood center stage, and did a basic flash dance, complete with a bucket of water being spilled on his head. I heard six beeps from the sound booth.

From where I was sitting I could see Courtney in the wings. She was staring at Justin, eyes wide and mouth agape. Jealousy roared from my stomach, up into my throat and burned the back of my mouth. She was fawning over **him**?!

No. I could not have that. I almost snarled as I half-attempted to march on the stage and punch him in the face. Fortunately for me (and for Justin) Tyler had the courage to restrain me.

"Not on live TV, dude." He said nervously, afraid that I would target him instead. I growled lowly, and sat back down, fuming.

But my mind was already plotting against him.

'_What should we do?_' I asked the inner voice furiously. '_What can we do to hurt him without actually hurting him?_'

The inner voice was clever and crafty. '_Tonight, we go to the confessional and enter a ballot. Enter as many as you can. Change up the handwriting as often as you can. They won't be able to tell who actually put them all in, so they'll just have to take it as it is._' The inner voice said. He was just as angry as I was. Then again, of course he was; we were the same person, really. He was just my common sense, my logic, and my conscience. It was little wonder he didn't start showing up until after I decided to stop being so rebellious. He smiled inside my head.

* * *

However, with all that had just happened, I tuned into what was going on in front of me just long enough to watch DJ get tied up in his ribbon and fall.

"Yikes." I said, wincing. DJ stood back up and finished lamely. I heard two beeps, and put my palm to my face.

"Dainty, and yet masculine." Chris said, walking out onto the stage. "Let's see what Grand Master Chef thinks." He gestured to the ceiling, then said, "Not much." DJ walked off the stage, hanging his head. Poor guy. "So," Chris carried on. "With two down, and four acts to go, it's the Screaming Gophers, screaming ahead. Next on deck... Trent! Take it away, my bro." He said, then gestured at Trent.

Trent walked to center stage, where a stool had been placed, holding his guitar, and clearing his throat. "This one goes out to someone special here at camp." He said. Gwen. Duh.

Then he strummed his guitar a few times, and sang,

"_They say that we've only got summer,__  
And I say that's really a bummer.__  
But we'll swim in the sun and have lots of fun.  
It'll just be the two of us.  
Nothing to do, just hang.  
So let me say only this:  
Let's stick around for just one kiss."_

It was about as good as an amateur musician could have hoped for. As it were, he ended up getting eight beeps, and I sighed. This wasn't going well. Not at all.

Chris jumped out onto the stage and said, "Nice work! I'm liking your style, dude! And so does Grand Master Chef!" He said. Trent waved offstage to (I assumed) Gwen. Then Chris' face went flat, and he said, "Alright, quit hogging my light, buddy." He pushed Trent off stage, then, and smiled. "Three down and three to go, and the Killer Bass are totally sucking so far! Let's hear it for Bridgette!" He said, gesturing towards the wing. After a short pause, Bridgette came out, walking on her hands. She looked really nervous, and pale.

Nothing good could come from this.

And nothing did, after she started burping. Then, all of a sudden, still on her hands, she threw up. Then, she threw up again, hitting Owen, who shouted, "I'm hit! I'm hit!"

Then, she threw up AGAIN, and it hit Katie and Sadie. Katie stood up, shrieking, then threw up on Sadie, while on stage, Bridgette threw up one more time, hitting LeShawna and Izzy. THEN, as if it couldn't have gotten any worse (and by worse, I mean more disgusting), she started to slip in it, and skidding right off the stage and into Tyler's arms.

Lindsay came running over, shouting, "Hey, puke on your own boyfriend!"

Heather, on stage, immediately glared. "On your own **what**, Lindsay?"

Lindsay looked momentarily stunned, then turned and said, "I didn't say boyfriend."

Meanwhile, we didn't hear any beeps for Bridgette, and Chris tiptoed across the stage, holding his nose, saying, "Cleanup in aisle three, four, five and six!" When he reached center stage, he put his arm down and said, "In the meantime, we'll take a short break to hose the joint down."

Then the cameras shut off, and Chef came over with a mop and bucket. Grumbling, he mopped up all the vomit, while Katie, Sadie, LeShawna, Bridgette and Izzy went back to the cabins to wash off and change clothes. The contestants on the stage came back from behind the wings to relax.

Or, in our case, panic.

Courtney, Harold, DJ and Geoff came back, looking harried and in Courtney's case, sickened.

"Well, that was just great. Did we even get a score for that?!" She asked furiously. I shrugged. "Not to my knowledge."

She scoffed. "Great. Just great. Geoff, you'd better be absolutely perfect, or we're going to lose!"

"But no pressure." I added, grinning. He was smiling.

"Don't worry, dudes, I've got this." He said, clenching his fist in determination.

Eventually, the others came back, including Bridgette, who looked seriously upset. '_The others must have said something to her._' I thought pitifully. She immediately went to Geoff, and gave him a hug, which he returned, looking surprised. He looked over at me, and I gave him a grin, and a thumbs up. He grinned, then patted Bridgette's back and whispered something.

* * *

And then, the stage was clean, and Chris shouted to the camera crew to set up. Then he yelled at the remaining campers to hurry up and get back stage, and just as they did, the cameras turned on, and Chris said, "Welcome back to the TDI Talent Extravaganza!" He yelled like he had before. "Welcome back! Okay. So in a strange turn of events, Bridgette's chunk-blowing fest registered two thumbs up by Grand Master Chef. But it's not enough to pull ahead of the Screaming Gophers, who hold the lead with Trent's love song. So, without further delay, here she is for the leaders, Heather!" He said, and gestured off stage.

Heather strutted onto the stage, still wearing a ballerina tutu, and sat down on a stool. "Originally," She said in a sickly-sweet voice that meant that nothing good was coming. "I was going to dance for you. But instead, I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration." She said, holding up a dark green book, and looking over to someone on her team.

Gwen. And I could only assume that that book was Gwen's diary.

Then Heather smiled. "So, with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy." I knew it was Gwen. Of course. Then she cleared her throat, and read, "Okay. So, I'm trying to ignore him, but he's just so cute! If they had custom-ordered a guy to be a distraction for me here, it would have been McHottie. We just totally connect. He's pretty much the only person I can relate to here, and I know it's a cliché, but I love guys who play guitar." She finished, then looked over to her team. I looked over just in time to see Gwen get up and run, as fast as she could, away from here.

It was Trent. She liked Trent. I grinned, despite myself. Well, that was good news for him, then; he obviously liked her back.

Still, I glared at Heather, who looked pleased, and shut the book. "Thank you!" Heather got up and walked offstage.

Chris walked to center stage, and said, "Well, then, it's down to the final act of the night. Can Geoff and his rad stunts turn it around?" He sighed, and said, "I seriously doubt it." Then he gestured off stage, and said, "Let's find out!"

From behind stage, I heard Geoff take a test jump, and suddenly, there was a loud, "CRACK!"

...

That couldn't be good.

I saw Courtney and Bridgette peek out from behind the curtain, and look over. They looked at each other, and Courtney sighed. Then, they gestured wildly, and I looked over. I pointed at me, and they shook their heads. I pointed at Tyler. No. Confused and surprised, I pointed at Harold, and they nodded madly. I shook my head doubtfully, and said, "Hey, Harold." Then I pointed at Bridgette and Courtney, who were beckoning again.

Harold sighed, and went over. Chris walked to center stage, and said, "It would appear that we're having technical difficulties. We'll just give the Bass a minute to get their act together, and--"

"Okay!" Courtney said from the wings, and she and Bridgette pushed Harold out onto the stage. He walked up to Chris, and stared at him silently. Chris looked at Harold with an eyebrow raised, and said, "Alright then. Here's Harold, doing... whatever Harold's doing." Then he walked backwards into the wing, gesturing at Harold.

Harold stood there silently for a minute. It wasn't until Courtney encouraged him by saying, "Just... go for it, Harold. What have you got to lose?" That Harold stepped up to the mike, took a deep breath, and let out a beat. Then another. And another.

And by the end of the performance, we were all silent.

The kid was almost a pro at beat boxing. Who knew?

Honestly, I hadn't, but then again, that guy was turning out to be a bundle of surprises lately.

What wasn't surprising was the nine beeps we heard after it.

Chris walked on stage, clapping madly. "Wicked beat boxing, dude! Check it out! Grand Master Chef has declared his winner." He said, pointing upwards. "Even though they held the lead, the Screaming Gophers have been trampled by the Killer Bass!"

From the wings, Courtney and Bridgette ran on stage and gave Harold hugs. I didn't even have it in me to be jealous. He just won us the challenge!

"And as for the Screaming Gophers," Chris continued, "pick your favorite loser, and I'll see you at the bonfire!"

* * *

And so ended the competition. I grinned, and along with Tyler, DJ, Katie and Sadie, walked onto the stage and applauded Harold.

"Dude, that was amazing!" I said, grinning from ear to ear. "Don't tell me you learned THAT from figure skating!"

Harold grinned. "Nope. Learned it from my cousin. He's been doing it for years."

For the second challenge in a row, we picked Harold up and carried him back to the cabins. We continued to have a party similar to the one we had after winning the previous challenge.

However, I didn't stay for long. I had to go and put my vote in for who should have left tonight....

* * *

I made it to the confessional before (or after) everyone else had gone in. That was a good thing. I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't turn on the camera, and I made sure it was turned off. Then I grabbed six sheets of paper, and wrote, in several different hands, "Justin." Then I put them all in the box, and stepped out.

I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was to see Courtney there. She seemed to be sort of like my conscience; there at the very minute I didn't want her to be. Omniscient, almost, as if she knew I was doing something wrong. As it were, she raised an eyebrow at me, leaned on one leg, and crossed her arms.

"May I help you?" I asked innocently.

"What are you doing?" She asked tiredly.

I held up my hands. "What? A guy can't use the confessional every now and then?"

She didn't buy it. "In the middle of our party?"

I shrugged. '_She was way too intuitive,_' I thought. "I had something I wanted to get off my chest before all the Gophers came in." Then I sneered. "God, Princess, are you really that nosy?"

She rolled her eyes, and then glared. "Whatever." Then she came right up to my face and said, "But if I find out that you've done anything stupid that would get you kicked off, I'm going to hurt you." She threatened.

I smirked. "It's sweet that you care so much, Princess, really it is."

She didn't back down. "I **don't** care. But we're finally even with the Gophers, and I don't want to lose that advantage. So don't screw it up for us because you have to go and do something stupid!" She said, then stalked off angrily back to camp.

I stared after her for a while, then sighed, and re-entered the confessional. I turned the camera back on, and carefully unbolted the screws on the vote box with my pocket knife. Then I filtered through the votes, and took out the ones that were mine, not bothering to see who the others had voted for. I crumpled them up and threw them down the toilet, then put the original votes back in the box and re-bolted it. I sighed, and held my head in my hands.

"Looks like I can't say no to you." I said quietly. "Is this what this has come to?" Then I sighed again, and said, "All that effort for you, Princess." I exhaled heavily in a groan, and shut off the camera.

* * *

When I returned to camp, Courtney was looking at me with scrutiny, but I just shook my head, and went into the cabin. I suddenly wasn't in the mood to party right now.

'_When did this happen?_' I asked the inner voice. '_I thought I just liked her. Now I'm listening to her, and doing what she says? What is she, my mom?!_'

The inner voice had a response, like always. '_Well, of course you're doing what she says. Do you realize just how much you like her? Taking back those votes would have made her happy, and apparently, that's what you want now. What makes her happy will probably make you happy._' It said logically. I sighed.

And suddenly, I had an idea. A great idea. And idea so perfect, she would have to like me--nay, love me--for it.

I walked outside after changing into pajama pants and a tank top. I went over to Bridgette, who was looking especially relieved. "Hey, do you happen to know where Courtney put the pieces of her violin? I'd've asked her myself, but I don't think she'd tell me."

Bridgette shrugged, and said, "I think she threw them away. Why?"

I shrugged. "Would've made good firewood." I offered as an explanation. So as not to look suspicious, I hung out outside for a little bit before going back inside. But I don't think I fooled Bridgette; she continued to look at me as if I'd grown another head or something. I ignored it, though; if it made Courtney fall in love with me, it would all be worth it.


	11. For Which Authors Can't Name

**A/N:** Alright. I'm not proud of this chapter. It's not great. You only even need to read the end. God, this was so dry. So, so dry. But I couldn't think of anything else to happen in this chapter, and I'm far too excited about the next chapter to bother about this one too much. So I apologize for the lousiness. Next chapter is going to be SO much better.

Now for the usual:  
Readers: It's because of you that I've managed to survive thus far.  
Reviewers: It's because of you that I've managed to survive happily and cheerfully thus far.

Again, I'm so sorry about this chapter. So, so, so, so, so sorry. It's awful, plain awful. Just skip to the end. That's all you have to do.  
Enjoy skipping through! :)

* * *

  
The next morning when I woke up at seven, the first thing I did was sneak over to the girl's cabin and steal their garbage can. I'd thought about it earlier, and decided to just take the whole thing instead of sift through it in the cabin.

I could hardly resist sneaking up to Courtney and watching her sleep, for just a minute. She looked so peaceful, and relaxed. It was such a contrast to how strung-out and uptight she looked during the day or how angry and stressed she looked when she was looking at me. I couldn't help but wish that she would look like that more often; that she would mellow out and stop being so prissy. But I realized that if she were to do that, she wouldn't be herself. She'd be someone completely different, and I wasn't sure how I would feel about Courtney being anyone else but Courtney.

Then, on the bunk under her, Bridgette started to shift, so I snuck back out and ran towards the woods before anybody saw me.

I ran for a while before finding the perfect tree; it had a large knot in it that I could keep things hidden in. I rustled through the garbage and plucked out anything that even looked like it could be a part of a violin. Amongst the violin pieces, I saw a bunch of pieces of paper crumpled up, and, even though it went against my better judgment, I had to open one.

Whatever they were, I was certain they belonged to Bridgette. I figured this because all over them, the words "Bridgette and Geoff" were encircled by hearts. I raised an eyebrow. It seemed a little 'kindergarten', and I was surprised that this had come from Bridgette.

Then I was confronted by a problem. Geoff obviously liked Bridgette, and would have wanted to see this. But Bridgette was doing me a favor, and keeping the fact that I liked Courtney a secret from her (although by now, I was certain it wasn't worth it; she pretty much knew by now). So, should I show it to Geoff? Would he appreciate it, or would he consider it backstabbing Bridgette? Would he care?

Did I care?

Jeez, when did I turn into such a softy? What did I care if Bridgette was keeping my secret when everybody knew it except her anyways? Besides, it wasn't exactly as if her crush on Geoff was a secret either....

Then I realized that Courtney wouldn't appreciate my telling Geoff, and I decided not to. I was able to come to terms with my newfound weakness. I couldn't do anything she wouldn't be proud of.

'_Whatever._' I thought, trying to justify my actions. '_I was trying to be a better person lately anyways._'

'_You do realize, though, that the main reason you're trying to be better is because of Courtney, right?_' The inner voice countered. '_There's really no way to justify this to yourself. Or anyone else, really. It would be best for you to just stop trying._'

The inner voice sometimes had this awful tendency to cross boundaries, and as soon as I thought that, I smirked. He didn't say anything, but instead, forced a part of me to feel sullen, and I imagined two of me in my head, one looking smug, the other folding his arms, looking away.

* * *

After I plucked out the violin pieces, I emptied the garbage can in the knot of the tree, then snuck back to camp, carefully entered the girl's cabin, and just as sneakily walked back out. Fortunately, Bridgette was still soundly asleep; nobody noticed a thing.

After I'd returned the garbage can, I ran back to the tree I'd hid the garbage in. It wasn't ecologically friendly, I knew, but I didn't care. I was too busy congratulating myself on how well I'd managed to pull that off.

Now all I needed was some wood glue. But how would I be able to get some here? If I were at home, it would be easy. Borrow some from the woodshop club, or get some from the store, piece of cake.

But I had no doubt in my mind that there would be no wood glue here. I scowled.

What was the point of going through all that if I wasn't going to be able to put her violin back together? I might as well have left the pieces in that stupid garbage can.

I didn't give up, though. There had to be a way for me to fix it, even without wood glue. I could use tree sap or something, that stuff was really sticky, right?

* * *

As it were, I didn't need to use tree sap. They did have wood glue. It was Chef's prime ingredient in today's breakfast, and it was purely by coincidence that I found that out.

"Hey, Chef, dude. What is this stuff made of, anyways?" Geoff asked nervously. He'd managed to get on Chef's good side by complimenting the day's breakfast, nearly everyday. Or, at the very least, on Chef's 'do not murder' side.

Chef glanced up at the ceiling, and started listing ingredients. "Potatoes, celery, and mayonnaise. Or it would have been mayonnaise if we hadn't run out of mayonnaise. So I used glue instead."

I caught that, and said, "Glue? What kind of glue?"

Chef looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a frown. "You got some sort of love for glue?"

I shook my head, impatiently. '_Any kind of glue **would** work, you know._' The inner voice told me excitedly. There was hope. If he had glue of any kind, I would be able to put the pieces back together. The sound might come out a little funny, and it might look a little messy, but it would be fixed, wouldn't it? She would be happy, right?

So I told Chef, "No. Just need to borrow some wood glue, if you have any."

He frowned. "Yea, I got wood glue. What do you need it for, anyways?"

Crap. What was I going to tell him? I shouldn't have even mentioned it to him now, anyways! That might ruin it! She might have noticed that her violin pieces were missing, and, if she knew that I liked her, she might piece together what I was doing and accuse me... in front of everyone!

Then I realized that if I were to fix her violin, and tell her that I fixed her violin, she would tell everybody, and my reputation would be ruined. Everybody would know that I was a softy, and nobody would take me seriously. I'd just be a 'poser.'

Not to mention all the viewers would see it, too.

So instead, I just said, "I'm carving some pieces to make a wooden sword, and I need wood glue to put it together." I managed to come up with that just an instant too late, but Courtney didn't notice; in fact, she barely looked up. I wasn't sure if she was even listening.

Chef shrugged, and said, "Yea, sure. Go to the craft shed after breakfast."

Whoa. It worked.

I mean, I'd expected it to work. I hadn't expected him to be so cool about letting me borrow some. Last time I checked, he hated me. I'd always assumed it was just because it was me; the kid who'd spent most of his childhood in juvenile hall, and constantly caused trouble. Maybe it was for another reason? Or maybe I was wrong, and he didn't actually hate me. Maybe I'd just assumed it all.

Then it was my turn to be served, and as if our conversation hadn't just happened, he slammed slop down on my plate so hard, some of it splashed back up into my face and on my shirt, and he smirked at me.

No. He definitely hated me.

* * *

After breakfast, I went over to the craft tent, half expecting Chef not to be there. But, as promised, he was there with a bottle of wood glue and a curious expression.

"So, what do you really need this glue for?" he asked, pulling his arm back as I went to grab it. I sighed and dropped my arm. Should I tell him? Would he ever mention it to Courtney?

I had to find out. "Look, it's a surprise for one of the campers, so don't tell anyone?" I asked. He nodded.

"Soldier's honor." He said, holding up his free arm. I nodded.

"Courtney's violin broke, and I was going to fix it for her so she doesn't have to buy a new one. Alright?" I asked, glaring. Chef raised an eyebrow, and he looked surprised.

"CIT girl? You're doing a favor--" then he remembered something, and grinned mischievously. "You like her, don't you? That's why you're fixing it for her, isn't it?"

I sighed impatiently. "Yes, okay? I like her. That's why I'm fixing her violin. Okay? Are you happy now?"

It was the first time I'd actually said it outright like that, if my memory served me correctly. The first time I'd been so blunt about it. It made me feel weird, and kind of awkward, as if I was just tossing out my feelings as if they didn't mean anything. I frowned.

As it were, Chef pushed the glue in my chest, and said, "Well, then, good luck."

Raising an eyebrow, I turned and walked away, and said, "Thanks." Then I hurried into the forest to find the tree where I kept it all stored.

* * *

It was really easy to find the tree. I'd only tagged a few of them, and that tree was one of them. Plus, it had a giant hole in it. It would have been hard to miss.

I reached in the tree and pulled out all the pieces. I scattered them out on the ground, and sat down in front of them. I started looking at all of the edges, trying to piece it together in my mind. I sighed, and picked up one of the bigger pieces and a small piece. I put them together, making sure that was where they were supposed to go. It was, so I put glue on one of the edges, and pushed it together.

Putting the violin together was like putting together a puzzle. There weren't that many pieces, but the wood had broken in ways that a lot of the pieces could fit in the same spot as other pieces on one side, but wouldn't fit anywhere else on the other side. More than once I had to break the pieces apart and put them somewhere else. It was a project that would take me a few days, and when I finally had half of it put together, I realized that I'd been doing it upside down, and angrily broke all of the pieces apart again.

It was a long process, and on the first day of me working on it, I'd barely gotten three pieces put back together before I had to get back to the cabin. I wouldn't be able to work after sundown; it was way too dark, and I didn't want to mess something up. So, sighing, I carefully put the pieces back in the tree knot and went to the cabin.

* * *

Geoff and DJ had been sitting outside, having a chat, when I came back. I couldn't tell for sure, but I had a feeling they were talking about me, because when I came into view, Geoff said, "**There** you are! Where've you been, dude?"

I nodded towards the forest, not saying anything. I was still frustrated by the violin that wouldn't go back together, but I didn't want them to notice, so I tried to get into the cabin. They blocked me off.

"What's the big deal, man?" I asked angrily. Geoff was grinning.

"Oh no you don't. You've been in the forest all day. It doesn't take that long to put together a fake sword, dude, and no matter how intricate." He grinned. I shrugged.

"I was taking a walk. Whatever. Let me in." I said, fuming. I liked them and all, but if they didn't get out of my way, soon, I wouldn't be afraid to hit them.

DJ was grinning too. "You know, we heard something strange today from the girls." I stopped struggling to get past them. '_Oh, crap._'

"Yea, dude. Something about their garbage being completely emptied." Geoff continued for DJ.

"And you know, Duncan, you'd never guess what was in their garbage." DJ said, anticipation crawling into his voice. '_Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap._'

"The pieces of Courtn—" Geoff started to say, but I put my hand over his mouth, shutting him up.

"Dude, shut up!" I whispered furiously. "Yes, I took the pieces of Courtney's violin. I'm going to put it back together, okay? But I don't want her to know! So shut up!" I took my hand off his mouth, and stormed into the cabin. DJ and Geoff followed.

"Why don't you want her to know it was you? Wouldn't that, like, guarantee she'd like you?" Geoff asked. I shrugged.

"Yea, maybe, but that would... I dunno, it would make it less fun." I explained. "Less of a challenge." That wasn't really the reason. A small part of it, yea, but not the real reason. My reputation was now ruined in Geoff and DJ's point of view, but they respected me anyways. I wouldn't let anyone else know.

I was tough, and I wasn't about to let anyone else forget it.

* * *

The next day, I went back to the tree and took out the violin pieces. Fortunately, the few pieces I had had dried overnight, and hadn't shifted. So that was three pieces done, and eleven more to go.

I sat and spent the entire day putting the pieces together without the glue. If I could just get the pieces in order, I wouldn't have to break it apart anymore. So as not to forget how they were supposed to go, I fixed the entire top of the violin, then the entire bottom, separately. After that, it was getting to be late, so I carefully put the pieces in the tree knot again and went back to camp.

Like yesterday, I was confronted upon return to camp, only this time, by Courtney. She was looking at me strangely, and as soon as I saw that, I was nervous. Sure, I was friends with Geoff and DJ, but they were capable of letting things slip to people who wouldn't be as careful, weren't they?

But I didn't need to worry. Courtney was still clueless as far as I could tell. Instead, she was curious as to what I was doing in there for so long.

"What were you doing?" She asked condescendingly. I grinned in relief. As long as she didn't know, I was free to tease her as much as I wanted.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, and moving closer to her face. I loved getting on her nerves. It didn't feel good when I thought she'd hated me, but now that I was sure she felt otherwise, teasing her was as good as hitting on her. Plus, she was really hot when she was angry. That contributed a lot.

"Because..." She was at a loss; there wasn't any way for her to ask me what I'd been doing in my free time without making it sound like she was sincerely curious. I smirked.

I cut her off before she ended up saying something that would embarrass her. "I was going for a walk in the woods. There's no law against is there, Princess?" I asked, setting her up. I knew what she was going to come back with.

"If there were, you'd break it anyways." She said, crossing her arms and looking away. I grinned. Saw THAT coming a mile away.

"Yep. I would." I said contently, nodding. "So, why'd you want to know?" I asked again. I would get some sort of confession, embarrassing or otherwise. There was absolutely no way she could get out of confessing that she'd cared, even a little bit. Even if she was just curious, it meant that she'd been wondering, at least a little, and that meant that I'd been on her mind.

She shrugged. "Geoff asked where you were earlier. I told him I didn't know. I was just wondering."

Damn. Damn it, that was the only way she could have gotten out of that. Pegging her curiosity on someone else. I frowned. Then I grinned.

"So, where were YOU earlier?" I asked for no real reason than for her to start an argument. I really should be taken to a mental ward and get looked at if I was trying to get into arguments with people I liked. There was nothing sane about it.

She just looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

I shrugged. "Didn't hit your head at all today, did you? You know how I feel about you dying." I said nonchalantly.

She just gave me an undecipherable look. "Why do you care so much? Why are you targeting me?" She asked, almost accusingly.

I grinned. '_If only she knew._' I thought weakly. "Ah, Princess. I would tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Duncan. I'm going to bed."

I would almost definitely get a slap for this, but I just couldn't resist: "Want me to come with?"

The slap in the face was definitely worth it.

"Good night, Duncan." She said resolutely, slamming the door. I grinned, and went into my own cabin, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

I climbed into bed, thinking about (you guessed it) Courtney, and how much I liked hearing her say my name.

* * *

The third day I went back to the knot in the tree to find that, again, my luck had held out; the pieces that I'd fixed the day before stayed the way they were, and all I had to do was glue the side pieces together in the violin's shape, then glue the top and bottom pieces to the side.

Unfortunately for me, gluing the side pieces together in a way that would retain the violin's original shape proved to be difficult. Violins have very peculiar shapes, and with the way the violin had broken, it wasn't going to be a friend and glue together properly. It took me until at least four in the afternoon to figure out how the pieces were supposed to fit together, and another hour to glue it together carefully so that there wouldn't be an ugly space where the glue was.

Also unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to finish it before the challenge tomorrow like I'd expected to. I hadn't anticipated the stupid violin to be such a pain, and if she didn't appreciate it being put back together, I was going to be pissed.

* * *

That night at dinner, I was sitting in my seat, pushing my food around with my spoon. Though today's dinner looked somewhat edible, I wasn't really in the mood to eat. A strange melancholy clouded over me, for some strange reason, and I wasn't in the mood to eat, or move, or even harass Courtney.

I wasn't sure, but I had the strangest feeling it had something to do with her, too. Was I really good enough for her? Could I ever be? Was there any way she would ever like me? Why would she, if she did? I thought back to all the times we'd come into contact with each other over the past two weeks or so. If I were to be honest with myself, I'd barely given her a reason to like me at all. For all the times I'd teased her, or acted like a jerk in front of her, what would ever give her the idea that maybe I liked her for her, and not for how easy it was to make fun of her?

The inner voice was trying to fight the woe. '_Well, think of all the times you'd been nice to her! The first day we were here! The rugby game! Come on, man, stop being so downcast! You've got a chance! She likes you, you've told yourself a million times!_'

'_Yea, I have.'_ I thought dolefully. '_It's called wishful thinking. If I tell myself anything enough times, I'd eventually believe it._'

The inner voice sighed heavily. '_Look, Duncan, man, look at all the signs! All those curious looks? The rugby game? Why are you so convinced **now**, of all times, that she doesn't like you, when you're merely inches away from finishing the violin?_'

I shook my head, and stood up. I didn't want to have that conversation anymore. I was tired, and I was going to bed. "I'm going to bed." I told Geoff and DJ. They nodded, and we exchanged 'good nights.'

I changed into my pajamas and sunk into my bunk. I needed to get some sleep. Hopefully the gloom would be gone in time for the challenge tomorrow.

I groaned when I remember the challenge, but just as soon cleared my head, and I was asleep in a few minutes.


	12. The Sucky Outdoors

**A/N:** Alright, everyone. I feel really good about this chapter. Really, really good. Crazy good. I just love it to pieces. It seriously makes up for the last one, in my honest opinion. But anyways, something has sort of come to my attention. Incidentally (and I'm not sure if anybody's noticed but me), Duncan's relationship with the inner voice directly affects how he addresses it. Sometimes it's a 'me,' sometimes it's 'we,' sometimes it's 'he,' and sometimes it's an 'it.' It just depends on how he feels towards it at the moment.  
I don't know why I pointed that out. I guess it's just that I noticed it when rereading through some of the past chapters (which was a bad idea, on my part. :P), and I thought it would make for some fun, author's note trivia. xP

Anyways, time for the usual.  
Readers: You are my inspiration.  
Reviewers: You are my muse.

One more thing before I cut you loose. The next chapter, I'm SO excited for. And the chapter after that. I already have up to Basic Straining planned out on Word (and if you want to see how many chapters that is, go to tv [dot] com and look up TDI. Choose the episode list, and count how many episodes that is from here to there. Then double it by two (for the in between chapters). And there you'll be. :)

S'aright?

* * *

The next morning, I woke up feeling a little bit better than yesterday. The depression was still set in like a stain, but sleeping had helped, a lot. I wasn't feeling anywhere near as pessimistic. Yesterday, I'd said there was no chance at all. Today, there was as much a chance as ever. That was enough to please the inner voice, and I'd come to realize lately that it was all about keeping him happy.

I took a long shower that morning, longer than my showers normally lasted. I stayed in there until my legs got tired of standing, but I didn't wash at all. I just stood in the warm water and wondered where yesterday's depression had even come from, anyways. I'd been perfectly happy all day, glad to have something as tedious and mindless as putting a violin back together to work on, and then I walked into the Main Lodge, and **bam**! Like a battering ram, a wave of bad feelings washed over me.

Once I decided it was time to get out, I quickly washed my hair and body and climbed out. In the small space the showers allowed for changing, I dried myself off and got dressed in my usual clothes. When I climbed out, I bumped right into Courtney, who'd headed straight for the shower I was just in. She fell, and I almost did; I would have fallen if it hadn't been for the wall being behind me.

I ended up hitting my head, hard. Clutching it, I groaned. "Ow. That wasn't pleasant." Then I looked at her on the ground, shaking her head. I extended an arm, and said, "Sorry about that. I didn't know you were right there."

She nodded, and took my hand. Like in every single cliché contact moment between the main character and his love interest, the spot where our hands touched was tingling, which surprised me so much, I almost let go. I didn't, though, and helped her up, but I immediately dropped my hand. I carefully watched her expression; either she was really good at hiding things, or she just hadn't felt it.

Oh, great. Now, besides hearing stupid voices in my head that claimed to be my conscience, I was feeling things that weren't there too. I sighed inwardly. What other deformities would I come to have?

She kneeled down to pick up her things that she'd dropped. I eyed a small bottle of what I assumed was hair conditioner that had rolled into the corner, and grabbed it. I was right. Hair Conditioner.

I gave it back to her, saying, "Here. Dropped this." She took it wordlessly, then looked up at my head, and grinned. I tilted my head to the side in a curious gesture, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She shook her head. "Your hair looks kind of funny down like that." She said, then reached up and ran her fingers through my still-wet hair, grinning. "It looks different this way."

I grinned. "Well, thanks. Glad you're enjoying it." It made me chuckle a little bit to see that she thought I was being sarcastic. I really wasn't. I liked when she and I were playing friends. It made me feel a bit more optimistic when she wasn't hurling insults at me.

Unfortunately, I was a glutton for punishment, and when she said, "Well, I'm going to go take a shower," I had to say it, I really did.

"Need any help?" I offered, smirking. "I'm great company."

She groaned. "Why is it that you can't be civil for even two minutes?" Then she sighed, walked into the shower and slammed the door shut. I was actually surprised she didn't hit me. I thought for sure I'd earned a slap with that one. Maybe I was starting to break through to her. Maybe the idea of showering together was sounding less like a fate worse than death to her. Or maybe I was just hopefully wishing, and reading signs that weren't actually there.

...Nah!

She also hadn't given me an answer. "So I assume that's a no?" I called over the sound of the water.

"That's a no." She affirmed seriously. I grinned, shaking my head.

* * *

I ended up staying in the bathroom for a while after that. Not because Courtney was in there or anything (I'm not that perverted), but because I was looking at my hair. Courtney was right; my hair DID look funny when it wasn't gelled up. The only days I didn't gel it up were days that I didn't have anything to do. Or when I ran out of gel. But my hair was really thick, so it ended up spiking up naturally sometimes. The gel just made it stuck up farther.

I brushed my teeth and put in my piercings and gelled my hair up like everyday. I was out of the bathroom before Courtney finished her shower, just so as not to give her any more reasons to hit me. I liked pissing her off. I did not like pissing her off enough to hurt me. I was a glutton for punishment, not a masochist.

At breakfast, she ended up sitting across the table from me; this was a cause for excitement on my part. As thrilled as I was on the inside, I didn't let it show on the outside. It had never occurred to me that she might have been looking for a reaction, but I never gave her one. I knew how to work my magic, and she was just going to have to wait for it.

While we were eating, Chris came and visited us, telling us to find him after lunch by the bonfire. Grinning, he also mentioned that we might want to wear comfortable shoes. I snorted; how many shoes did he expect us to have brought?  
Then I looked at Heather and Lindsay, and suddenly, it made a bit more sense.

* * *

Several hours and half of an eventless day later, we all walked as a big group down to the fire pit, where Chris was standing happily, waiting for us. After we all came into place, got settled (I'd made sure to strategically place myself behind Courtney, making it look like it was purely coincidental), and the cameras turned on, he gave us our challenge.

"Campers, today's challenge will test your outdoor survival skills." He said calmly. This was a strange new development; he was never this calm when giving us our challenges. Maybe he finally got the medication he needed. I grinned. "I'm not gonna lie to you; some of you may not come back alive." After everyone gasped, he laughed, and said, "Just joking."

Looks like I was wrong. Whatever. I'd been wrong before.

"All you have to do is spend one night in the woods. Everything you need is at your team's campsite in the forest. You just have to find it." He picked up a backpack, reached into it, and pulled out two maps and two compasses. He tossed one map and compass to Heather, and the other map and compass to me. I caught it with ease, and Courtney turned around and glared at me. I looked down at her and grinned.

"Oh, and watch out for bears. Lost a couple of interns in pre-production." He added cautiously, while Courtney stood up and yanked the map and compass out of my hands. My eyes widened. She must have still been mad about my offer this morning. I smiled apologetically, and she just rolled her eyes. "First team back for breakfast wins invincibility." He said, then brought out a horn and blew it. "Well, off you go." He said, gesturing towards the forest.

Courtney stalked off, and I walked swiftly, close behind her, wondering how long it would take for her to notice and get mad. It didn't take long. She turned around, and held up the map as if she was about to swat it at me. I grinned, but held up my arms in surrender. She rolled her eyes, and continued to walk, occasionally looking at the map, then at the compass.

I trailed behind, and ended up walking with Geoff and DJ. None of us talked much. Except for DJ, who looked like he was having the time of his life out in the nature, we were looking at our respective love interests. Bridgette and Courtney had paused to consult the map, and Geoff and I couldn't help but watch.

Then Geoff turned to me and said, "Do you ever get the feeling that they know we're watching them?"

I nodded. "All the time. I don't really care, though. I'd rather she knew."

* * *

About two hours later, Courtney managed to get us to our campsite, and we started setting up camp just as it began to get dark. DJ and Tyler went out looking for food, Harold and I got some wood and started to work on a fire and Courtney, Geoff and Bridgette set about putting up a tent. I cursed myself for having forgotten my lighter, and resolved to start carrying it around with me. I didn't see why not; I had enough room in my pockets for it.

Fortunately, though, Harold knew from Scouts how to make a fire without a lighter, so I was in charge of finding enough wood to maintain the fire for as long as we'd need it. It wasn't difficult; I'd found enough in about ten minutes, and came back and gave it to Harold. He put some of it in the set-up fire pit, and slowly got a small fire by rubbing a couple of sticks together.

While all this was happening, I managed to listen in on Geoff's conversation. I couldn't help it; the dude talked pretty loudly.

"Wow, you pitch a tent like a guy!" He said happily. I put my palm to my forehead. '_It's hardly any wonder she doesn't think he's smart._' The inner voice muttered.

In an effort to fix what he'd said, he revised, "I mean, you're not all girly about getting dirty, and stuff." Honestly, it wasn't much better.

"Gee... thanks." She said as flatly as the inner voice had.

That's when I realized I was kind of hungry. I spotted Courtney propping up her half of the tent with a stick and came up with the perfect means of distracting her.

"What's for dinner, woman?" I grinned. "I'm starving." Now, I wasn't a sexist person by nature. In fact, I wasn't sexist at all. But there was something about Courtney that made me want to be really good and pure evil all at once.

She turned her head to glare at me. "I hope you don't expect me to dignify that with a response." I'd successfully managed to get her angry. '_Good job, Duncan._' The inner voice groaned. '_You always know just what to say to make things better._' I smirked.

Then DJ came back, calling, "Hey, guys, look what I found!" I looked over to see that DJ had caught a rabbit. Courtney propped up the stick and we both walked over.

"Well, I've never had rabbit stew before, but what the heck! I'm game." I said, thinking out loud.

DJ looked affronted. "This is my new pet!" I raised an eyebrow. '_Is he serious?_' He smiled at it, and patted its head. "I'm calling him Bunny."

Courtney sounded disappointed. "You couldn't find any food?" She sighed. "Then it looks like we're eating grubs and berries for dinner." She finished, sounding resentful.

Then something occurred to me. Where were the Wonder twins? Come to think of it, I couldn't remember seeing them almost all day. "Hey, has anyone seen Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-idiot?"

All talking stopped, and we all looked around and listened. Apparently, no one else saw them. I bit my lip, and Courtney sighed angrily. "Oh, well, that's just great!"

Tyler ran over and put a hand on Courtney's shoulder. "Alright, let's not lose our heads over this. We just gotta fan out, look in the surrounding area and call for them. They can't be too far away. Does anyone remember the last time we saw them?"

I scratched my head. Nobody else responded, until Harold piped up. "I remember that they were walking with us, because I passed them at some point."

I shook my head sighing. "They've probably been eaten by wolves or something."

"Duncan!" Courtney shouted, looking nervous.

"What?! It's true!" I shouted, defending myself. But I didn't say anymore.

Bridgette glared at me for a second, then said, "I doubt they were eaten by wolves."

Tyler nodded. "Yea, I don't think there are wolves in this forest anyways. But come on. We've got to split up and fan out. Call for them."

Bridgette squeaked. "Split... up?" Her eyes were wide.

Tyler looked confused, then said, "I guess you're right. Alright. Let's partner up and search the woods."

Courtney partnered up with Bridgette, and Tyler with Harold. But as I decided I didn't need a partner, and Geoff decided he didn't need one, and DJ was too busy cooing over his rabbit to care, we each went our own separate ways. However, just as I was about to head out into the forest, I saw Courtney look sort of nervous. I challenged her with a cocky smile, and she rolled her eyes before she followed Bridgette.

* * *

"Katie!" I called, running around through the woods. "Sadie!" I was running around for a while before sighing, and slowing to a walk, and calling, "Katie! Sadie!" I didn't think I was going to be able to find them. They were long gone, wherever they were. And I was almost certain they'd been eaten by something. Very few people were lucky enough to be found alive after wandering a forest by themselves at night. With that thought, I sighed, and turned around.

I'd been careful to walk in a straight line in my direction, to make finding my way back to the makeshift campsite easier. I ended up being the last one back to camp, and once I returned with a shrug, I saw a flash of relief on Courtney's face.

However, someone had been lucky enough to come across a pond and had caught fish. Geoff handed me some, and I ate it quickly, then threw the stick back into the fire.

After that, we all sat around by the fire for a while. Suddenly, from somewhere in the forest, an owl hooted, and Bridgette jumped.

DJ tried to help her. "Be cool. It's just an owl." He said, smiling.

Bridgette looked pale, and was shaking a little bit, sporadically. "Sorry. I just get really freaked out in the forest."

Bridgette's choice of words reminded of a ghost story I'd heard. I tried my best to conceal my grin when I remembered that I brought my hook with me. '_This is gonna be good._' The inner voice said mischievously. It made me feel a little bit better about my decision on a new regime to know that the inner voice could occasionally permit me to cause trouble. Then the inner voice said, '_Wait. You bring a hook, but you forget your lighter?_'

I ignored him. "This reminds me of this really scary story I heard once." I said calmly.

From next to me, Geoff chuckled, and said, "Awesome! Tell it, man!"

I was glad he'd asked. I really wanted to tell this story. However, I knew just how scary it was, and it seemed more like the sort of story to tell back at camp, around the bonfire, where we knew that safety was barely yards away. "Are you sure? Because the story I'm thinking of is pretty hardcore." I said, trying to coax them to make me, regardless. Hell, if Bridgette had a panic attack, I wasn't going to be blamed for this.

And of course it was Courtney who had to be the one to challenge me. "Ooh, we're so scared." She said sarcastically.

I sighed. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you." Then I grinned maliciously, and began, "One night, a lot like this one...."

* * *

A little while into my story later, and I had them all looking pretty panicked, but nobody's face thrilled me as much as Courtney's did. I wanted to laugh, but at the same time I wanted to stop telling my story and help her relax. '_I shouldn't have brought up this stupid story._' I thought, mentally face-palming myself. '_If I'd known how compromising it would have made me, I wouldn't have._'

But I continued anyways. No backing out now.

"So suddenly, they heard this 'tap-tap-tapping' on the side of the car. The girl started to freak out, and by this time, even the guy was getting a bit scared. So he turned the car on, and he stepped on it!" Then I lowered my voice to alter the tone a bit, to inflict a little bit more fear. "When they got back to the girl's house, she opened the door and **screamed**, because there, hanging from the door handle, was the bloody hook." At the end, I was almost whispering. "They say that this killer is still alive, wandering these very woods. He could be just about anywhere, really..." I reached behind me, and grabbed my hook from my back pocket, making sure I had a safe grip on it. "Maybe even right... here!" Then I pulled the hook around and put on my craziest expression.

Everybody screamed, and Courtney, Bridgette and Harold hid behind DJ, who looked just as scared. I let out my creepiest evil laugh, which eventually turned into my own hysterical laughter. '_That was great!_' The inner voice wheezed from inside my head. He was laughing just as hard as I was. '_Oh man, that was awesome!_'

However, I composed myself as Courtney walked up to me, putting my arms behind my back. "Duncan! That was **so not** funny!"

I grinned. "Oh yes it was! I just wish it was all on camera!" Then I pointed at the camera guys, who gave me thumbs up in response. "Oh, wait! It is!"

She glared. "You are so vile! Do your parents even like you?!"

'_...Yikes._' The inner voice said quietly. That one actually really hurt. But I didn't let on; I just played it cool. "I don't know, Jumpy McChicken. I haven't asked them lately."

Just then, a wolf howled in the background, and Courtney jumped... right into me. On purpose. I couldn't cover up my shocked expression quick enough. Then I looked to Geoff, who gave me another thumbs up.

Courtney, once she realized what she did, stepped back, and blushed lightly. Then she glared at me again. "Why would you even **do** that?!"

I shrugged, looking smug. "Because that was hilarious. God, Princess, you need to lighten up. It was just a stupid scary story, sheesh!" I said, laughing.

She groaned angrily, and said, "I'm going to bed." Bridgette agreed.

"Yea, me too."

Everyone else agreed, and I just shrugged. I was glad that everyone else took it as a joke. I didn't want everyone mad at me; that could result in me getting kicked off, and to be honest, since I was stuck at that stupid camp anyways, I might as well have tried to win.

* * *

In the tent, I fell asleep quickly. It must have been pretty late, because I hadn't realized how tired I was until I laid down.

But the next thing I knew, I heard a loud scream, and slowly woke up to find that the tent was completely gone. I looked around to see that something had caused it to burn to the ground. Right in front of me was a glowing red stone, and I moved back a little bit.

Right next to me, Courtney stood up. "That's just great, Bridgette. Now, we have nowhere to sleep!" She shouted.

It was about time I intervened before she just about murdered Bridgette. "Yo, drama queen, relax. It's cool." I said, trying to calm her down. It really wasn't that bad. It wasn't really cold, and it wasn't raining; if we started a small fire and huddled around it, we could sleep that way. We just so happened to be very fortunate today.

She apparently didn't think so. "Cool? It's cool? Things couldn't **possibly** get any worse!" She yelled. '_Man, someone needs a nap._' I thought sullenly, wishing for one myself.

Suddenly, there was a drop of water on her head... and as if a switch had been turned on, raindrops fell in sheets. I raised an eyebrow at her, smirked, and she screamed. Very loud.

DJ found a big leaf, and we all camped out under it, except Tyler and Harold, who were fine sitting out in the rain. They came from farther north, or so they said; they'd be fine.

* * *

The rain didn't last very long. Once it stopped, I was exhausted, and dropped right where I was. I didn't even noticed that Courtney had fallen asleep right next to me.

However, I did notice it when I woke up, at least an hour before everyone else. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. Whatever had happened to make her curl up to **me**, of all the people on this team, must have been highly desirable in my favor, because there she was, sleeping peacefully right next to me, her arms wrapped around me as if I were a stuffed animal.

'_This could have been an accident, you know._' The pessimist in me thought. However, Courtney started to mumble in her last hour or so of sleep, and she said a few things that even the pessimist couldn't mistranslate.

"Duncan... smell good..." she mumbled after about ten minutes. After another ten or so, she said, "comfy..." After about five more minutes, she hummed contently, and another ten minutes later, she said, "love... Duncan...." After that, she just said a lot of really random things that didn't have much to do with what was going on. "bear," "tired," and "funny" were a few things that came up.

Needless to say, I was in an excellent mood when she actually woke up. She hummed again, rubbed her head against me, and opened one eye. With that eye, she looked up at me. "Morning, sunshine." I said calmly, grinning. She closed her eye, then barely a second later opened them both and gasped.

"Oh my gosh! Eew!" She said, and stood up. I sat up and leaned against my elbows. "You were cuddling me!" She said, pointing a finger. Oh, no. I was **not** getting blamed for this one! I had witnesses to prove that I'd fallen asleep first. However, I wasn't really angry. Of course she was going to peg this on me if she was still in denial.

"I was calmly lying on back and trying to catch a few Zs. You were snuggling up to Me." I pointed out. It didn't matter that much, though. I was in a good mood, regardless. Everything she'd unintentionally said while she was sleeping only proved that she liked me. '_Loves you, if it wasn't just talk._' The inner voice congratulated. I grinned.

She frowned, and put her hands on her hips. "Ugh! You are such an ogre!"

I shrugged, and laid back down. "Ehh. I've been called worse." She let out an angry shout, and stomped away to the other side of our campsite, grumbling. Occasionally, in her mumbling, I could hear her say words like 'stupid' or 'delinquent' or 'never.' I shook my head, grinning. If she knew what had happened, she wouldn't have had to waste all that effort.

* * *

For the rest of the morning, none of the snide comments she made could bring me down. I was in an excellent mood. I was in such a good mood that I didn't even bother to hide it. Hell, Courtney loved me! Why should I bother to pretend that that didn't make me obscenely happy?

We eventually packed up everything we'd used after making sure to leave no traces that we'd been there, apart from the ashes that had once been our tent. Then I looked at my watch, and gasped. It was already nine-thirty! The Gophers could have made it back by now!

"Uh, sorry to break up this party, but we may want to go. Now!" I said, pointing at my watch. Everybody looked up at me, and Courtney asked what time it was. "It's nine-thirty. The Gophers could already be back!"

Everybody looked completely shocked, and then, as a group, we all started running back to camp.

Courtney and I were in the lead, and it became somewhat of a race. We'd never actually challenged each other out loud, but there was a mutual understanding that neither of us wanted to make it to camp after the other.

I had to admit that Courtney was really fast, probably faster than me. Sometimes I had trouble keeping up with her, and the rest of our team had troubles keeping up with us. However, at one point she tripped over a root, and I came skidding to a halt, and helped her up.

She looked at me suspiciously, but took my hand. "Why are you helping me?"

"No point racing if your opponent's not racing either. Then I'd definitely win, and where's the fun in that?" I said logically. She frowned. Then, suddenly, grinned and took off. I was momentarily stunned, then, just as everybody else had caught up, I took off again after her, and eventually caught up with her.

I loved running; I used to do it all the time, and the only reason I didn't anymore was because... well, how much running could you do in a jail cell?  
But out here, I felt free; it was empowering. Such was my joy that, after ascertaining that there weren't any cameras in sight, I let out a happy laugh. Courtney looked at me strangely, but after watching me for a minute or so, she shook her head and grinned.

As the campground came into sight, we were neck and neck. There wouldn't be an easy way to tell who would have won this. So I started to slow down, just a little bit, and let her take the lead. I wasn't going to have won it anyways, I'd been going just as fast as I could.

As it turned out, we were back before the Gophers. "We're the first ones back!" Courtney shouted happily.

Right behind us, we heard Heather shout, "Oh, no! They beat us here! This is all YOUR fault!" She said, shoving Owen, who fell. Izzy (who for some reason was dressed in a bear suit) started to giggle.

But Chris had something else in mind. "Ah, ah, ah, ah! Not so fast, there, Gopherinos. It seems that the Killer Bass are missing a few fish." He said, pointing at us.

"Oh, you mean Katie and Sadie?" Courtney asked detachedly. "I'm pretty sure they got eaten by wolves last night."

"Darn shame." I added, nodding.

Just then, because the Fates like to spite us Bass, Katie and Sadie came running out of the woods, gasping for breath. "We made it!" The tan one said.

"We're safe!" the larger one said. Then she turned to us and said, "Oh my gosh, guys, we got totally lost, and then got in this massive fight!"

"And there was this huge bear, and he was all, 'rawr, you're in my crib, so get out!'" The tan one added.

"And we had to run, and it was, like, SO scary!" The larger one said emphatically.

Then the tan one turned to her twin, and said, "Oh, Sadie, I'm so sorry I said I was prettier than you!" I raised my eyebrow at them. This was like a really bad soap opera.

Her twin seemed to have an apology too. "And I'm so sorry I brought up the snack shack."

The tan one had another one. "And I'm sorry I said your butt was too fat to fit in the bus seats!"

"You did?" The larger one asked. The tan one looked like she'd said too much, then smiled nervously, and said, "...Well, not to your face."

The larger twin had an odd expression on her face, then said, "Oh, who cares?! We're safe! And you're my best friend, and I love you!" She said, then the two ended it in a hug.

Courtney didn't seem to have the patience to deal with that right then. She cleared her throat and said, "Um, are you two finished with your little love-fest?" They nodded. "Good. Because thanks to you, we just lost the challenge!" She yelled.

Well, that was a sure-fire way to wipe the smirks off the twin's faces.

Chris finally decided to jump in. "Alright, Killer Bass! One of your fishy butts is going home!" He cried joyfully. Maybe it was because I was tired, but his enthusiasm was getting old, fast. Then he turned to the Gophers, and said, "Gophers! You're going on an all expense paid trip to... the Tuck shop!"

The Gophers cheered, and ran off while the rest of the Bass team and I stood and glared at the Wonder twins, whose names I STILL hadn't managed to get down, even after their make-up session just now.

The smiles were quickly wiped off their faces. They knew, right from the start, that one of them was going home.

'_Which one?_' The inner voice asked. '_Which one do you think would be better suited to staying here?_'

Later, when I found myself in the confessional, I still couldn't remember who was who. So I turned on the camera, wrote down a name, and said, "Sorry, Katie. I don't know which one of you this is." I scribbled down Katie's name, and put it in the ballot box. After that, I headed back to the cabin and took a nap, but not before running into Courtney, who gave me a strange look. I smirked at her, and waved with my hook. She glared.

* * *

Geoff shook me awake in time for the Bonfire ceremony, and we made it just in time for Chris to start.

"You've all cast your votes." Chris started solemnly. "The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately hit the Dock of Shame, grab the Boat of Losers, and get the heck out of here!" He said, gesturing towards said dock. "And you can't come back. Ever!" Then he relaxed, and said, "Now. I can see you're all tired, so tonight, I'll just throw them to you. Savvy?" He said, then immediately called names and threw marshmallows. "Courtney!" Courtney caught hers, looking thrilled. "Duncan!" That wiped the smirk off her face. She glared at me, but I just grinned. "Bridgette! DJ! Harold! Geoff! Tyler!" At that point, there was one marshmallow left, and two twins.

I couldn't tell from where I was sitting, but I had a feeling that they looked absolutely terrified. I didn't really take any pleasure in that, but hey! At least it wasn't me. They wrapped their arms around each other in an almost threatening way.

"Ladies! This is the final marshmallow of the evening." He looked at them, then paused for a dramatically long period of time before saying, "Sadie." And throwing the marshmallow. Sadie didn't catch it.

"No! Why Katie?! Why her?!" The girl I assumed was Sadie cried.

"It's so unfair!" The other one said, putting her hands on her face.

"I so can't do this! I've never been anywhere without Katie!" Sadie said in a loud, sad voice. "We have to be together, or I'll totally die!"

"Sadie, listen to me." Katie said seriously. "You can do this! You are strong and beautiful, and like, maybe even smarter than me! And plus, you're like, the funnest girl I know! You have to do it for both of us!"

Sadie burst into tears when Katie stood up and walked calmly to the Dock of Shame. At this point, I heard Courtney scoff, and walk back to camp. When Sadie stood up and ran after Katie was when I decided that this was almost sickening to watch, and stood up and followed her.

* * *

I found her sitting outside our cabin, swatting at the bugs that surrounded her head like a cloud. I walked up and sat down on the opposite side of the stairs, being careful to keep my distance in case she was still mad.

Which she was. "Ugh. What do you want now?"

I sighed. '_Time to get this over with._' I thought. "I just wanted to say that... I'm sorry I scared you." I said almost regretfully. I **was** sincere about the apology; I just didn't want her to think I was totally serious about it.

Of course she was going to deny it all. "I was NOT scared. It was completely circumstantial." She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, looking incredibly pompous. "And there's no such thing as a 'hook man.'" She finished matter-of-factly.

I nodded, looking out towards the rest of the camp. "Yea, you're probably right." Then I grinned, pulled out my hook, and shouted, "Or are you?!"

She screamed loudly, and it scared all the bugs away. Then she glared again, and said, "Ugh! I HATE you!" Then she walked back towards all the others, and I grinned.

"She so doesn't hate me." I said, equally as matter-of-fact as she'd been, and crossed my arms behind my head... completely forgetting the hook that was still attached. I ended up jabbing the back of my neck, and I jumped.

After carefully prying the hook out, I put it back in the cabin, glaring at it. Then I followed Courtney, who'd headed back to the Bonfire with the others, and sat next to her. Instead of glaring, like I expected, she just ignored me. That was fine.

She liked me. No amount of hating me was going to change that.


	13. Phobia Factor

**A/N:** Hey there. It's me again.  
I have to apologize about the wait for this. I'm sorry, guys, I really am. But I've had a lot going on lately. I'm not going to sit here and make excuses, because that's not what anybody wants to hear, but I've had a lot of things going on at once, and I didn't have any time for writing.

So, to make it up for you, here's this. This part for you. :)  
Just so you know, I put The Sucky Outdoors and Phobia Factor together without time in between because... well, watching the show, it doesn't leave a whole lot of room for their to be time in between. So... sorry about that. The next part will more than make up for it. I guarantee. And you'll see why when you finish reading. ^-^

But before I let you begin *collective groan from the audience* I just have to say a few words.

Over eight thousand hits... over a hundred reviews...  
Seriously, guys. Do you know how much that means to me?

**EDIT:** Yea, hi. Sorry about deleting this and re-posting it. I have to apologize. Honestly, I made a mistake with this. A big mistake. I need to stop writing when I'm only half awake.  
If you read the original version of this chapter, please, completely forget the ending. I couldn't stand it. Hated it. Deleted it. Rewrote it. Gone. No more.  
I realized that what I had written was... well, it was crap. So I changed it. I hopefully made it better. So, without further adieu, here.

The new chapter thirteen.

* * *

I looked around me for a second and noticed that two Bass were missing. Upon further inspection, I realized it was Bridgette and the remaining Wonder twin. "Hey, where are Bridgette and Sadie?" Courtney asked Geoff. Was that her name? Sadie? I'd have to remember that now. It would probably be a mistake to accidentally call her Katie.

"Sadie's still upset over Katie. Bridgette's trying to calm her down." DJ answered. We all looked over to the Dock of Shame, where Sadie was lying on the ground, Bridgette hovering right over her shoulder. While we watched, we saw Bridgette try to pull her to her feet, bringing her back to the fire. In her attempt to stay at the dock, Sadie pulled a piece of it clean off as Bridgette tried to pull her away. They eventually made their way back to the circle, Sadie hyperventilating and Bridgette looking almost relieved.

While Sadie hugged the small plank of wood like a doll, Bridgette offered an explanation. "It was a long good bye." She said apologetically.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Gopher team walk over. Courtney stood up defensively. "What do you guys want? Come by to rub it in?"

Trent was at the forefront, and said, "We got some extra desert after our Tuck shop party. Thought you might want some."

"So what? You're just being... nice?" Courtney asked suspiciously. I don't know why she was being so suspicious. We'd been on good terms with the Gophers before.

'_Maybe she's still pissed about how close we were to winning._' The inner voice suggested. '_I mean, that win was snatched out from under our noses._'

"Okay. Owen stank up our cabin, and we need some time to air out." Gwen said flatly, pointing at Owen, who farted.

'_Yeesh._' The inner voice said disgustedly.

Just then, Beth walked over to Courtney and Bridgette with a plate of green jelly. Courtney shrieked. "No!" Then she backed away a little bit, calmed down and said, "I mean... no thanks. I'm good."

"What, are you on a diet or something?" I asked curiously. I figured Courtney would be one of the first people to accept desert, considering that she hadn't been eating much lately. Hell, none of us were. But we didn't have a choice. It was either to eat Chef's slop, or eat nothing, and more than half the time, Courtney chose nothing.

"No! I just don't like green jelly, okay?" She was acting strange; getting way too defensive over nothing, screaming at jelly... what was her deal? She didn't like green jelly? Well, she could dislike green jelly and not freak out over it at the same time.

Then Beth walked over to me and DJ, offering the jelly. I was about to decline some (I wasn't very hungry) when DJ gasped, and whacked the plate out of her hand, screaming, "SNAKE!"

Cody walked over to where it landed, and pulled out the alleged snake, and smiled, saying, "Chill, dude. It's just a gummy worm."

DJ took a deep, relieved breath. "Sorry for tripping. Snakes just freak me out."

Tyler nodded, and put his hand on DJ's shoulder, saying, "I feel you. Chickens give me the creeps, dude."

Gwen looked surprised. "You're afraid of chickens?"

Tyler nodded, looking embarrassed. I laughed, and said, "Wow, that's... that's really lame, man." Really, it was. Chickens? Those things were harmless! Just strutted around all self-important and ran at the first sign of trouble.

Beth came to the rescue. "It's okay, Tyler. I'm afraid of being covered by bugs." She said, nodding her head.

"Being covered by bugs? Why not just bugs?" Bridgette asked.

"Well, one bug by itself ithn't a big deal, right? But a whole bunch of them... Now that's thomething to worry about." She explained, shrugging.

LeShawna shook her head. "I'm afraid of bug costumes. Those things are creepy, ya'll. I mean, why would anybody want to wear a bug costume **anyway**?"

Harold grinned. "I'm afraid of ninjas." There was a long, silent pause, during which all of us had to have been thinking, '...Okay...'

"Why are you afraid of ninjas? Didn't they die out a long time ago?" Lindsay asked blankly.

Harold shook his head. "Gosh, no! They're actually everywhere. You just don't know they're there." He said matter-of-factly, nodding his head.

Heather twitched. "That's not too bad. Not as bad as sumo wrestlers." She shuddered. I raised an eyebrow.** Heather** was admitting to her fear?

After she said that, though, nobody spoke, until Gwen said, "What's **my** worst fear?" She thought a moment, then said, "I guess... being buried alive."

Lindsay, who was sitting next to her, looked horrified, and said, "Walking through a mine field... in heels." I stared at her for a second, then I sighed, and looked away. I really should have figured it would be something like that.

After that, everybody else just randomly jumped in with their fears. Owen and Izzy were afraid of flying in planes. Geoff sadly admitted to being afraid of hail. Bridgette was afraid of being left alone in the woods, and Lindsay changed her vote when Sadie admitted to being afraid of bad haircuts. Cody was afraid of having to diffuse a bomb under pressure.

Next to me, Courtney looked smug. With her arms wrapped around her legs, she grinned, and rocked back and forth. "I'm not really afraid of anything."

I rolled my eyes. Like hell she wasn't afraid of anything! So hiding it poorly under a cough, I said, "Baloney!"

She looked at me as if I were an immature child. "Oh really?" Then she put her hands on her hips, and said, "Well, what exactly is **your** phobia, mister know-it-all?"

...Crap. That had been a mistake. I looked around the fire pit to see everyone lean in intently, and to be honest, I didn't blame them. Nobody would expect the juvenile delinquent to have a fear, so I definitely didn't blame them for reacting the way they did when I leaned my face on my hand and said, "C-Celine Dion music store standees."

Cody laughed. "Ex-squeeze me?" He sarcastically put his hand up to his ear and said, "I didn't quite get that."

Trent grinned. "Dude, did you say Celine Dion music store standees?" I covered my face and shrunk down a little. I knew I'd get crap for this, why did I admit it?!

Lindsay squealed and said, "I love Celine Dion!" Then her face went blank, and she turned to Gwen and asked, "What's a standee?"

Gwen was about to answer when Trent, in order to spare Lindsay's feelings, said, "You know. That cardboard cutout thing that stands in the music store."

I shuddered, and glared. "Don't... say it, dude!"

He grinned wider and said, "Kind of like a life-size but flat Celine."

Courtney grinned. "So if we had a cardboard standee right now..." She trailed off teasingly.

I covered my ears. I didn't want to hear anymore. "Shut up!" I had to get their attention off of me, so I pointed to Trent and said, "What about you guys?"

Trent just smiled, and shrugged. "Okay, well, I hate mimes. Like, a lot." Then he leaned his elbows on his knees, and said, "Alright, Courtney, you're afraid of something. Spit it out."

She stood up. "Nope. Nothing."

Then I remembered how freaked out she got about the story, and smirked. I turned to DJ and Geoff, and said, "That's not what she said last night."

She put on her best condescending voice and said, "Duncan, did you ever consider that maybe I was just humoring you and your stupid story?"

I shook my head and smirked. "Sure, sure, Princess. Whatever floats your boat."

Then she glared. "Shut up!" After that, it got really quiet. To my dismay, I was still attracting funny looks, so I decided it was time to put this all to bed. I stood up and stretched.

"Well, I think I'm gonna turn in for the night." I said, and scratched the back of my neck. Trent stood up, looking at me strangely, and agreed.

"Yea, me too. Night, guys." He said quickly. I raised my eyebrow, and shrugged. Whatever. No concern of mine.

Just as I was about to walk back, I heard Courtney shout, "Trent, be sure to keep watch for Celine Dion, okay?" In an instant, my temper flared, and I turned around to see her smirking at me, and waving. I was about to go over there and... I don't even know what I would have done. My inner voice was completely absent, and for a second, I felt... inhuman.

'_Just like old times._' The last remains of my consciousness said, and just like that the temper fell.

Not realizing that I'd given up, Trent grabbed my arm, and shook his head. So I scowled fiercely at Courtney, who looked a little bit surprised, and turned around, marching angrily towards the cabins, Trent hurrying to keep up.

"Man, that chick **creases** me..." I muttered, scowling ferociously. Trent punched the side of my arm and I slowed down.

"If you don't mind my asking, why do you call her 'Princess?' Are you two..." He trailed off suggestively, making a gesture that indicated that he thought we were dating.

I scoffed. I didn't need anybody **else** knowing how I felt about Courtney. Geoff, DJ and Bridgette were enough. "No way. She just acts like a Princess. It's a fitting nickname. Plus, it pisses her off." I said offhandedly.

"But you like her?" He asked. It wasn't really a question.

"No way! She's way too uptight. Not my type, at all." I denied carefully. If I got too defensive, he'd figure it out.

Unfortunately, he didn't believe me. He crossed his arms and gave me that irritating, 'Yea right' look, so I sighed. "Alright. Yea. I like her. You wanna make something of it?" I said defensively, glaring.

He shook his arms. "No, no! I was just wondering, man. I won't tell anyone." He smiled nervously.

I nodded, and we arrived at the cabins. I paused, and was about to say something to Trent, but shook my head, said, "Good night," and entered the cabin.

'_Do you think we'd have been friends if we weren't on different teams?_' I asked him telepathically. I'd almost asked it out loud, but I figured that it would have sounded weird to say something like that. Plus, it completely contradicted my reputation.

He didn't respond, but I understood.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up bright and early, like always, to find that Harold was already awake and out of bed. I frowned, surprised, but didn't think much of it. What did I care what Harold did with his free time? However, when I crawled out of bed, I noticed that I was stepping on something. I looked down, only semi-interested, when I realized what I was standing on.

It was a pair of underwear. Revolted, I brought my foot up, and kicked it, letting out a disgusted shout. "DUDE, THAT'S NASTY!" The underwear hit the wall and slid to the ground.

My cries woke up Geoff, DJ, and Tyler, who were instantly alert. "What is it, man?" Geoff asked nervously.

I pointed at the pair of underwear on the ground by the wall. "That! Someone left their nasty underwear on the ground and I stepped on it."

The guys climbed out of bed and looked at it. We all looked at each other, wondering whose it was, when, behind us, Harold walked in. "Hey guys. What're you looking at?"

We turned around to see a still-wet Harold, fresh out of the shower, looking confused and walking up to us. "Someone left their nasty underwear out, and Duncan here stepped on it." DJ said, clapping me on the shoulder.

Harold frowned, and walked over. "That's gross!" He said, frowning.

We all stood silently, staring at it. "Well... whose is it?" Tyler asked. Nobody responded. Tyler frowned. "Well, come on. It's got to be one of ours. Nobody else dresses or undresses in this cabin."

I didn't know about the other guys, but for a second, Tyler's comment set my mind to wondering what it would be like if some of the girls actually dressed (or, to better describe my imagination, undressed) in our cabin. I snapped out of it, though, and the other guys looked dazed too, until I snapped my fingers, and we all came back to reality. "As nice as we all know that would be, Tyler's right. These have to be one of ours. Now, it's not mine. I wear boxers. Plus, I stepped on it." I said, shuddering.

Harold thought for a second, then said, "What if someone put it in here as a trick?"

Geoff looked confused, then said, "Maybe one of the Gophers put it in here to try to get us to start a fight or something."

I shrugged. "Yea, I guess that makes enough sense." Then I looked back at the offending article of clothing and said, "So, what should we do with them?"

Harold held up his arms. "Okay, okay. I'll go get a stick." He said, then went outside. I nodded.

"Glad that's out of the way." I said, and shrugged again. "I think I'm gonna go take a shower. See you guys later." I grabbed my clothes and a towel and left the cabin, the other guys climbing back into their bunks.

* * *

A couple hours later, I found myself at breakfast, sitting next to DJ and across the table from Courtney. She had a malicious glint in her eye, and she smirked. She was still remembering the comment from yesterday.

Knowing exactly what she was looking for, instead, I gave her a big smile, and said, "Good morning, Courtney. How'd you sleep?"

That threw her off for a second, then said, "Oh, just fine. And you?"

I shrugged, and calmly said, "I had a good dream. You were in it." I smirked ferally, and dropped my voice to a whisper. "You wanna know what we were doing?"

She paled, then blushed, and said, "Shut **up**, you pig!" I laughed.

"Whatever you want, Princess. Whatever you want." I grinned. She glared.

'_Oh yea!_' Inner voice said. '_Duncan one, Courtney zero!_'

But just as I was about to say something that would only cause her to blush more (have I mentioned how hot she looked when she was blushing?), Chris whistled, and said, "Campers! Your next challenge is a little game I like to call... Phobia Factor! Prepare to face your worst fears!"

"Worse than **this**?" I heard LeShawna incredulously ask from behind me.

"We're in trouble." Gwen said flatly.

Chris walked over to the door, and said, "Now, for our first victims... Heather! Meet us all in the theater. It's... sumo time!" Behind me, I heard someone spit out their drink. I assumed it was Heather. Just a coincidence.

Chris went on. "Gwen! You, me, the beach. A few tons of sand?" He said, gesturing accordingly.

I heard Lindsay ask behind me, "Wait. How do they know those were your worst fears?"

Gwen sighed, and said, "Because we told them." It was silent for a minute, then Trent said, "At the campfire, last night."

"Wait!" Lindsay said, finally understanding. "They were listening to us?!"

"It's a reality show, Einstein. They're **always** listening to us." Gwen's tone was flat and sarcastic. '_Poor Lindsay._' I thought, chuckling.

"That's, like... eavesdropping!" She said.

Then Chris jumped in again and said, "Chef Hatchet! Didn't you have a special order for Tyler here today?" He asked, grinning.

Chef nodded, and smirked evilly. He pulled the fryer out of the grease, and we saw... something fried in the shape of a chicken. Chef offered it to Tyler, who looked unsure, but, knowing what Chef would do if he didn't take it, nervously grabbed the chicken and took a bite of its head. All was silent for a minute until a chicken popped its head out of the fried pieces, and Tyler screamed.

And then he kept on screaming. He continued to stare at the chicken, transfixed in horror. Chris was laughing for a few minutes, and a few other campers (myself included) chuckled a bit, until Tyler kept going with it, barely stopping for air. Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Can, uh... can somebody take that thing out of his hands, please?" He asked, sounding almost concerned. I walked over to Tyler and grabbed the chicken from his hand. The second it was out of his sight, Tyler stopped screaming and took a deep breath, then subsequently passed out, falling right onto me.

"Eh, what?!" I shouted, surprised. I caught him, then steadied him onto his feet. He was unconscious, rocking back and forth, head tilted back and his eyes half open. I raised an eyebrow, and Chris walked over with a cup of water.

Tyler shook back into consciousness after Chris splashed him. Then he shook his head, gasping for air. After blinking a few more times, he caught his breath, and said, "What just happened?"

His face was still pale and he looked queasy. "Uh... you just passed out, dude." Chris told him. "You should probably go to the infirmary tent."

He nodded, and allowed Chef to half-drag him outside. After he left, we all stared after him. Once he was out of sight, Chris said, "Well... that was weird." Then he grinned, and said, "Alright! First challenge! Everybody, come on. We've got a pool set up near the beach. It's Beth's challenge first!" He said. Beth went rigid, then sighed.

* * *

As we walked over to the beach, Courtney held me back, letting everybody else go first. There was murder written all over her face. "What did you mean by what you said earlier?!" She asked, so angry she was whispering.

I smirked. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't actually dream that. That's just my way of getting back at you for the standee comment you made yesterday." Then I grinned, and walked back to the group. For a few minutes, she didn't follow me, but by the time we got to the pool, she was right behind me, looking thoughtful and a little bit confused. That is, until she caught sight of the bug pool.

Honestly, the thing would have made anybody sick; seeing a big pile of squirming, wriggling bugs all bunched up together like that made me feel sick. I immediately understood Beth's fear; that was just nasty. Next to me, DJ threw up, and closer to Beth, Owen passed out.

But Beth shrugged, and without a word, threw herself into the pool. She went under for about three seconds, then resurfaced, bugs on her head and in her mouth. The Gophers cheered, and Chris said, "And Beth sets the bar way up there!"

Owen, who had recovered from his fainting episode, caught sight of Beth in the pool (with bugs caught in her braces, no less), and fainted again.

Chris smiled. "Good job, Beth! That's one point for your team."

Beth smiled, then climbed out of the pool. "Does it thtill count if I throw up?"

Chris frowned, with an eyebrow raised. "Uh... yea."

Beth nodded. "Good." Then she ran towards the trees, and threw up. I laughed. That was classic!

However, from next to me, I heard an annoyed, "Ugh!" I didn't even need to look over to know that it was Courtney; nobody else would have been as surprised, or as irritated. I just stopped laughing and looked over to see her glaring daggers at me, like usual.

"You're so vile." She said, trying her best to be insulting. "How could you laugh at her when she just faced her worst fear? I bet you'd be sick too if you were looking at a--"

I interrupted her before she could say it. "Relax, Princess, I wasn't laughing at her. Just what happened. It was funny." I shrugged, put my hands in my pockets, and walked away. I almost missed hearing her sigh heavily as she started to walk after me.

* * *

After Beth, Chris took Sadie and Lindsay to the Main Lodge, and the rest of us were free to "mentally prepare ourselves."

And, even though I shrugged it off, and made sure I didn't look like it, that's exactly what I was doing. Lounging comfortably on the Bass cabin steps, I sat silently with my head tilted back and my eyes closed, and repeated to myself, like a mantra, '_There's nothing scary about Celine Dion. There's nothing scary about Celine Dion. There's nothing scary about standees. There's nothing scary about standees._'

A few minutes into my mantra, Courtney came up to me, and sat down. I didn't open my eyes or even look over. Instead, sarcastically, I asked, "May I help you?"

"So, seriously. Celine Dion standees? Isn't that a little, I don't know, out of left field?" She asked, genuinely curious.

I chuckled humorlessly. "Yea, I know its weird, and irrational, and stupid." I said flatly, reciting some of the adjectives I'd heard before. "What of it?"

"Well, why are you afraid of them? They're not exactly scary, or harmful. Whatever it was must have been some sort of traumatic childhood experience for you to carry it until now." She said matter-of-factly.

I sighed heavily, sat up, and opened my eyes. "You want to know why I'm afraid of standees?" I asked teasingly. She nodded. I leaned back against the cabin steps again, and said, "Well, when I was a kid, I went to the department store with my mom and my little brother. The two of us were old enough to be allowed to go around by ourselves, so me and my brother went to the music department." I smirked, recalling that day.

* * *

_I noticed a door next to the register, so I walked over, and looked at it. I tried the handle. It wasn't locked, so I smiled at my brother, and we went in. Inside, there were a lot of standees, roughly a hundred or more, that the store must have collected over the years and just not gotten rid of._

_My brother and I were fascinated, so we walked around for a while, looking at all of the standees for people we recognized. My brother called out to me, saying that he'd found Celine Dion, so I ran over._

_Well, just as I'd gotten over there, her eyes lit up, and she started talking, only it wasn't her voice, and the words were indecipherable. It sounded like she was possessed. Then, something happened, and the standee fell over, right onto us, so my brother and I kicked the standee away from us and ran back out. We were crying to hard our mother had to take us home immediately._

* * *

"And ever since then, my brother and I have been afraid of standees." I shrugged. "Most standees are tolerable. We just can't be around the Celine Dion ones."

Courtney was looking at me, grinning. "Have you ever considered that maybe there was a draft? And maybe her eyes were supposed to light up, and her voice just wore out?"

I nodded. "Oh, yea, we've thought of it. But have you ever seen a talking standee? Plus, it was a sealed room. No windows. Only one door. There wasn't any draft." I shuddered, still thinking about it. It had scarred me for life.

She shrugged. "Come on, Duncan. You can't tell me you actually think the thing was possessed, do you? Even if demons **existed**, what merits would they get possessing a standee?" She pointed out. That condescending air of hers was getting kind of tired.

But something she said struck a chord. "What, you don't believe in demons?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You **do**?"

I looked away, and said, "No. I guess I just expected you to be... I dunno, religious or something." I shrugged. "Whatever." Then I pointed to Lindsay, Sadie and Chris, who had just come out of the Main Lodge. "Look, they're done. Come on, we've got to go watch the next challenge." I grabbed her hand and pulled her up off the steps. Just as I noticed that I was holding her hand, I dropped it.

And something strange happened; my face went red. "Uh... sorry." I said quickly, keeping my face turned away.

'_Why am I blushing?!_' I wondered. '_I haven't blushed since... well, I can't remember the last time I blushed! Why is this happening?_'

Shortly after, the blush faded away, and I was able to walk slower, and less hunched over. I may have been caught off guard, but I'd be damned if I was going to let her see. That would lead to uncomfortable questions and accusations. Plus... well, blushing was just plain embarrassing!

* * *

We headed down to the theater to watch Heather and the sumo wrestler. For the first time ever, Heather looked pale. It was strange; her face was normally so full of hatred and anger. To see her looking so vulnerable was a not-so-subtle change.

But she faced the sumo wrestler, who was now rolling away, and, once she realized he was off the stage, she stood up, and subsequently passed out. Chris looked worried. I turned to Courtney, and said, "I have a feeling that's going to happen a lot today."

She agreed, nodding with wide eyes. She was just as shocked as I was.

After Heather was revitalized, she'd stalked off to her cabin, and didn't come back out for a while. Chris walked over to Bridgette, and asked, "Ready?"

Bridgette clenched her fist, gulped, and said, "Yep." We followed Chris out into the woods for about ten minutes, and he stopped. Then he took ten paces backwards, then drew a line. He took another twenty paces forwards, and said, "You can't leave this general area. We don't need you getting lost on us, now, do we?" He said, grinning and shaking a finger.

Bridgette paled, then shook her head, and sat down on a log. We started walking away, and she started to look more scared. Geoff smiled at her, and said, "You can **do** this, Bridge! Six hours is nothing!"

She took a deep breath, and nodded. She smiled gratefully at Geoff, and waved goodbye to the rest of us.

"Good luck Bridgette!" Courtney said sincerely. She waved, looking concerned. She bit her lip, and said, "I hope she'll be alright."

I shrugged. "She'll be fine. Don't worry about it, if it comes down to it, I'm sure there are camera guys watching the whole time. If it seems like she's about to do something drastic, I'm sure they'll step in."

Courtney nodded, and said, "Yea... you're probably right...." But she took one last look over her shoulder, and sighed. "This was a really stupid idea for a game. Someone could get seriously hurt."

While we all followed Chris down to the beach, we saw Owen and Izzy take off in a sketchy looking plane. I chuckled. I didn't know who to feel worse for, Izzy, Owen or Chef. But we soon arrived at the beach, where Gwen, Trent and a few other Gophers (including Heather, who'd been coaxed out of her cabin) were already assembled.

There was a hole already dug, and a glass box was sitting in the hole. Gwen climbed in with a walkie-talkie, looking as pale as ever, maybe even more than usual, and brought the lid down over her. Chris piled the first shovelful onto the box, and Trent said, "There's enough air for an hour. You only need to do five minutes."

"As long as we decide to dig you up." Chris added teasingly, tossing down another shovelful of sand. I snickered, which earned me another glare.

"Not funny, Chris!" Gwen said irritably.

"I'll be listening the whole time." Trent said, showing her his walkie-talkie. "Just yell for me if you panic, and I'll dig you right up."

Trying to make light of her situation, Gwen said, as sarcastically as she could, "Goodbye, cruel world." Then Trent closed the small hatch, and Chris threw a shovelful of sand right on her face.

* * *

Afterwards, we all headed over to the amphitheater, where on stage, a small tank was set up with something inside. Chris looked at DJ, and said, "Well, man, now's your turn. But I have some other matters to attend to, so I'll just let the camera guy be the judge." He gave the cameraman a thumbs up, and the camera guy grinned, and saluted.

We all filed in and sat down (Courtney sat next to me, whether on accident or on purpose; I could never tell with her), and DJ took a deep breath.

He walked on stage, and the camera started to roll. He walked towards the tank, in which a small snake was sitting on a log, looking harmless and innocent.

Feeling that he needed a little bit of encouragement, I started clapping, and said, "Hey, you can do this, buddy!" He looked at me with wide eyes, bit his lip, then looked back at the snake.

For a few seconds, all was still, when suddenly, he shrieked and jumped backwards. "Aah! It blinked!"

Sadie called, "It means she likes you!"

Courtney was impatient. "It's the smallest snake **ever**, DJ! Come on!" I couldn't be sure if she meant it consolingly, or if she was just irritated. I grew annoyed; it wasn't easy to confront a fear, and, when they chose something scary for her to face, I couldn't wait to see how well she'd fare.

"Yea, but it's slimy and scaly... slithery!" He said, disgustedly.

"We need this point, DJ! **Suck it up**!" She yelled, moving closer to the stage. Behind her, I shook my head and crossed my arms. That wasn't cool. He was scared; her competitiveness came second to another person's mental well-being. If he couldn't do it, well, she'd just have to accept it and move on. She noticed me shaking my head, and said, "What? We're heading back to loserville, people." She said matter-of-factly.

"Chick's heartless." Geoff whispered in my ear. I nodded.

On stage, DJ went closer to the snake, and looked at it, eye to eye. He held out his finger, looking the other way, and, after the snake crawled onto his finger, he grinned, and the rest of us (including the Gophers, who'd come to watch) cheered for him.

Courtney looked pleased, and said, "See? Fear is only in the mind."

* * *

After we left, we all headed back towards the cabins. On our way, we not only met up with Chris, we also saw Trent being chased by a mime. Courtney rolled her eyes, and said, "Is it just me, or is he the most cliché guy here?"

I shrugged. "He's a cool guy." I said finally, trying to get her to lay off. I liked Courtney, but I didn't want to hear her insult people who didn't deserve it.

"Just talk to him, bro!" Chris yelled into his microphone after Trent. "Ask him to go away!" Trent just kept running, so Chris looked at his watch. "Okay, then. We've got two minutes before Gwen's done. Cody! You're up."

The crowd dissolved after that; Chris said that Cody needed to go by himself, anyways. Everybody else headed back to the cabins, except Harold, who headed to the bathrooms. He came out ten minutes later, soaking wet. Courtney and I (who, now that I thought about it, had been hanging out a lot that day), as well as the other Bass who'd come to sit outside our cabin, gave him confused looks, and he said, "Ninja attack. Don't wanna talk about it." His expression and tone were flat, and he entered the cabin. He came back out shortly, dressed in dry clothes.

After a few minutes, Chris came over, holding something dragging behind his back. I stared at him for a second as he approached, then, instinctively, got a knot in the pit of my stomach. Almost all the other Bass went already, and the few who hadn't weren't afraid of anything that flat.

As he grew closer, he veered off to the side a bit, and set up what I knew was going to be a Celine Dion standee. My heart started to race, and I didn't look at it. Courtney grabbed my hand and dragged me over about ten feet in front of it, and I finally drew my hands away. I looked at it for a second and felt the color drain from my face.

'_How weird,_' I thought subconsciously, '_That when your heart beats the fastest, you get **less** color in your face instead of more._' The inner voice was silent; I couldn't be sure, but he was probably just as afraid as I was. '_That makes sense._' I thought. '_If my common sense didn't find these things scary, then I wouldn't either, because it's so irrational._'

I stood there, staring at it for a few seconds, then I jumped when Courtney, who was still standing next to me, said softly, "She's pretty. She's nice."

Chris gave me the terms of my challenge. "Just one hug, and you're done."

I bit my lip. Was I going to be able to get that close? What if its eyes started to glow? I'd probably pass out. I turned to Courtney. "Th-that looks really..." I ran out of air, and took another breath. "Real, man." I looked back at it fearfully. There was something in my feet that wouldn't let me move. Gravity was keeping me as far away from that thing as possible, pulling me back.

I only just barely heard Tyler over the sound of my heart thudding in my ears. "Dude, she's made of cardboard! Get in the game!"

Still next to me, Courtney said, "Hey. It's okay if you can't do it."

...Well, now I had to do it! I looked back at the standee. She really knew just what to do. By saying that, she made it clear that it now wasn't a matter of points right now, but a matter of pride. Even if she was sincere, her opinion of me would be affected by the outcome of this.

I sighed. It was up to me to make sure I affected it positively.

My resolve was strengthened even more when she took my hand, smiling warmly. I looked at our hands, then gave her a weak grin. "Alright. I'll try."

"You can do this!" She said, omitting the part I knew she meant; "You have to now, because if you don't, you'll forever be omitted from my good books." ...Alright, so she probably didn't mean that. But damn it all, because of her, now I had to!

"Okay, okay." I said, before she pressured me any further. Then I let go of her hand, closed my eyes, spread my arms and ran.

Time slowed down to a near stop while I was running. Everything else stopped except me and that **thing**. I felt my heart pound twice for every step I took. In my minds eye, I saw her eyes glow, and she started to move forward. I imagined that I heard a deep, warped voice, growling lowly in my ear. I almost stopped, but now, gravity and force was pushing me towards it. And then, there I was, arms wrapped around a harmless piece of cardboard that hadn't moved an inch.

I picked it up, making sure it was as light as it should have been. Suddenly, with a rush, all other senses came back to me; I opened my eyes, and could see, and sound came pouring into my ears. I felt my heart slow down, and the sweat that had formed on my head and in the palms of my hand dried. Loud cheering was right next to me, right in my ear where the growling had been.

"Duncan!" I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, and I looked down to see Courtney. "You're awesome!"

I took a deep breath, and looked at the cutout. It was exactly the same as it had been before. No glowing eyes. No distorted voice. All was well. So I grinned. "I did it!" I shouted. I'd done it! I faced my fear! I'd gained us a point, **and** Courtney was hugging me. She seemed to realize it as soon as I did, and quickly backed off as everybody drew around me, congratulating me. I grinned, and stared at the thing for a second.

My heart was still beating furiously. I was still afraid, and gravity still told me to back off. But it wasn't as bad now. I could fight the gravity. I could win. And damn it, I could hug a Celine Dion standee!

* * *

Once all the adrenaline had worn out (who'd've thought you get an adrenaline rush doing something as calm as hugging a piece of cardboard?), I was beat. I was surprised at how much energy it took to face a fear like that. I would never make fun of a scared person again.

Of course, this promise would wear out as soon as I'd rested a bit, but still. For now, I would leave everyone else alone.

However, I also had something I had to do. Simply for closure purposes. I went back to camp, and made sure that nobody was around. Grabbing the standee (and feeling creeped out, still), I brought the standee with me to the fire pit, and put it in. I took my lighter out of my pocket, and set fire to the standee. Then I sat down on a stump and rested my head in my hands, taking deep breaths. A few minutes later, I picked my head up and watched it burn, slowly.

I didn't need to look up to know that Courtney had come to sit next to me. "I know you said that fear is only in the mind," I told her teasingly. "But I'd be willing to debate with you about its effects on the body."

She chuckled. "Yea, well...." She trailed off. It was silent for a while, now, but it wasn't really an awkward silence. We both sat there for a while and watched the remains of the standee burn to ash.

Eventually, I looked at her, and I grinned. "So, I've got a question."

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret it, but what is it?" She asked, leaning back on her stump, resting her weight on her arms.

"You were being so mean to DJ, earlier, when he had to face his fear. Why were you being so mean to him, but so nice to me? You have to admit, DJ's a much nicer guy." I pointed out. I wondered if she even realized her behavior. Then I wondered why, if she had noticed her behavior, what her deal was. '_She needs to take the stick out of her butt._' I thought, chuckling.

She blushed very lightly, and said, "Well, I was just saying what you needed to hear, and what he needed to hear." She started, then quickly said, "DJ needed someone to push him. He needed a reason to do it. You needed a shot to your pride. If someone **said** that they didn't mind if you didn't do it, you were going to do it, because if you didn't, your pride would have been injured, and you wouldn't be able to stand it."

I stared at the half-burnt standee submissively. Well, didn't **she** just have it all down to a T? I raised my eyebrows, impressed. But then I grinned. Because I had to. Because I couldn't let her get away with thinking that I was, in any way, shape, or form, a weakling. "Yea, right. Just admit it. You were being nice because you want me." I said, folding my arms and smirking.

She stood up and groaned. "You just can't let a moment stay nice, can you?" Then she stalked away, and I smiled.

I really liked Courtney. This would work. It always worked out for the good guy.

A few minutes later, I heard a loud "BOOM!" I looked around, assuming that it had been Cody. A few minutes after that, I heard another loud scream, and saw Bridgette running straight towards me, eyes closed, head tilted to the sky, and arms up. She just kept running, and running, closer and closer, until, "Bridgette! Look ou-!" SMACK!

She ran right into me, and sent the both of us falling backwards. She ended up on top of me in a very awkward, and very compromising, position. Her legs were straddling my waist, and she was bent over me, shaking and pale. Her eyes were wide and her teeth were chattering.

"Uh... Bridgette? Could you get off of me, please?" I asked, uncomfortable. Bridgette was great and all, but this was uncomfortable for both of us. Or at least, it would have been, if she'd been conscious. However, despite my request, she didn't move. I sighed, and rolled over. She fell off of me like a limp doll. I bit my lip, wondering what to do. I decided to take her back to camp. I would have been worried just leaving her out here like that, what with the bears. Plus, she wouldn't have been found until much later. So I did the only sensible thing; I crouched down and scooped her into my arms.

I carried her back to our camp, and immediately, Courtney, Harold and Tyler came running. "Oh my God! Bridgette!" Courtney shouted, panicked. She ran over and quickly glanced over Bridgette. Then she looked to me. "Duncan, what happened?!"

I gestured my head for them to follow me as I brought Bridgette to the Main Lodge. "I'm not sure, but a few minutes ago, she comes out of the woods, screaming her head off, and ran into me. So I picked her up and brought her over here." I said, laying her on a table. Harold and Tyler stayed back to fan her, and I went to the kitchen to get some water. "I'm not sure, but I think it was something to do with Cody's explosion." I suggested, then filled a glass.

I brought it back out into the hall to find her partly conscious. I asked Tyler to pick her up, and Harold to tilt her head back just a little bit. I gently poured the water in her mouth, and she started to wake up more.

When she was fully conscious, she took the glass (about halfway full), and drank the rest of it. She shuddered some more, and said, through a scratchy throat, "I think that was the worst thing to have ever happened to me in my entire life."

I chuckled; yea, I didn't really blame her. Whatever happened must have been terrible for her to run screaming like that. Then I took a deep breath, and said, "You might want to go to the infirmary tent. You could be hurt, or dehydrated. Or something." I shrugged, and put my hands in my pockets.

Bridgette bit her lip and sighed. "Alright." Then she looked at me and said, "Hey, thanks for this, by the way." She gave me a small, apologetic smile, and I shrugged noncommittally. Like I was going to just leave her there.

Courtney nudged her arm. "Come on. I'll take you to the infirmary." She volunteered. Bridgette nodded, and pushed herself off the table. She gave me one last smile, and walked out. As she passed, I glanced quickly at Courtney, who was also giving me a small smile, and she whispered, "thanks" before she left. Tyler and Harold both gave me wide grins and punched me on the shoulder.

"Good job, man." Tyler said, clapping me on the back. I shrugged.

"Whatever." I said casually, trying to pass it off as no big deal. "I couldn't just leave her there. Those cameras are always watching, I could have gotten in trouble for it." Honestly, trouble was the last thing on my mind at the time. I wasn't half as worried about getting in trouble as I was about Bridgette getting hurt. But I didn't want them to know. I had to keep my reputation at least somewhat intact for all of this, or else I'd leave this place and never hear the end of it from people back home. It was bad enough that they all probably knew I liked Courtney. I didn't need them to know that I was concerned about someone else. I would never live it down.

* * *

As I left the Main Lodge a little while later, I saw Trent running after Gwen, who was determinedly walking away from him, ignoring him on purpose. Trent looked kind of upset. I wondered if they'd gotten in a fight. I wondered what they were fighting about. I hoped they would be okay. "I'm sorry! The mime, Gwen! It was—"

"Save it!" Gwen yelled harshly, slamming the door. Trent sighed, and looked at the ground, shuffling his feet and hunching his shoulders. I raised an eyebrow, now far too curious to let this pass. '_That's called being nosy._' The inner voice chided quietly, as if he were talking to himself. I was in half a mind to imagine my inner self kicking him; upon that thought, the inner voice disappeared.

"Hey, what's up, man? What's going on?" I asked him. Then, LeShawna came out of the cabin, followed by Heather, Beth and Lindsay; they made their way down to the fire pit, off to do whatever the heck they intended to do. I had no idea, nor did I really care to know. Gwen was still inside, a fact that had caught Trent's attention. He watched the cabin for another minute, looking almost hopeful. When it was obvious that Gwen was not coming out to join the girls, he frowned, looked at me, and sighed, and we both walked towards the beach.

"Well, you know how that mime was following me earlier?" He offered in explanation. I nodded, so he continued. "Well, it kept me from digging Gwen up, and now she's mad at me." He groaned. "Ugh, I deserve it, too."

"Well, that wasn't really your fault, dude." I pointed out with a raised eyebrow, trying to be of some help. I felt kind of bad that he was beating himself up over this. Trent and I were sort of friends, and he was one of the few that didn't care that we were on two different teams. I liked Trent; he was one of the few people here that I would want to keep in contact with after this was all over. My first impression of him had been entirely wrong, and I couldn't believe I'd ever thought that he would have been a poser kid. It had been a lapse in judgement, I supposed.

He shrugged, disheartened. "Yea, but still. That's why she's mad." He sighed again. "But I deserve it. I promised her I'd dig her up, and I didn't. She was terrified. She has a reason to be mad at me."

I threw my arm around his shoulders, trying to brighten his spirit. Gwen would forgive him. She had to. If anybody deserved forgiveness, it was Trent. "Ah, lighten up, man, she'll forgive you!" '_And if she doesn't, she and I are going to have a little talk later._' I mentally added, my inner self smirking. Hmm. It appeared the inner voice had a new competitor.

He smiled half-heartedly. "You think so?"

"I know so. Trust me, chicks like her don't stay mad for long." I actually had no basis or foundation on that claim, but hey! What else could I do? He was beating himself up over an accident. I had to do something to help him out.

"Ah, thanks, man." He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. "Looks like I'm just going to have to make it up to her somehow."

* * *

When we reached the beach, we passed Izzy and Owen, who looked dizzy and sick, and were clutching their heads and moaning. We saw the rest of the campers crowded around Geoff, who looked terribly upset; his eyes were red and kinda puffy. I gave Trent a confused look, and he said, "Geoff just faced his fear, too. And Owen and Izzy got back a while ago, before LeShawna faced her fear."

I looked at Geoff again, who seemed like he was about to cry. He passed Trent and me as he headed back to the cabins. Though we offered greetings, he completely ignored us. I told Trent to just head back to the beach with the others. I had to go talk to Geoff. Trent nodded, thanked me again for the advice (if that's what you could call it), and walked back to the others.

I ran a little bit to catch up with Geoff, and said, "Dude? What's up, what's the matter? You look... like you're gonna cry or something. You okay?"

He shrugged. "Hail, dude." His voice was cracking. "How in the world were they able to simulate **hail**?!"

I shrugged. "I dunno, dude. Was it really that bad?" I mean, yea, that stuff was weird, and hurt really bad when it hit you, but it wasn't really scary, was it?

He sighed. "You don't get it. You don't... you don't know..." Geoff said, then stopped, and put his head in his hands. "Two of my best buds were killed by hail. They went outside during a hail storm, and while they were on their way back home, it got really bad, and really heavy, and..." He stopped, and took a quick, shuddering breath. "They were twins. The only kids their parents were able to have. I got called in to help identify the bodies." He took another deep breath. "Their heads were..." Another breath, shorter and quicker this time. "completely gone, because," another breath, "the hail smashed," another breath, "right through them, and I," another shorter breath, "I had to identify them. Do you know," another breath, "Do you know how we had to identify them?"

He didn't wait for a response. "Their shoes. We had to use their shoes to identify them." He took a shallow breath, and took his hands from his face. "They used to mark their shoes to know whose was whose, and we had to use their shoes to know who they were." He took a deep breath, and immediately let it out, shuddering. "I was thirteen years old." He breathed again. "Thirteen years old and I had to identify my best friends' bodies."

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. But, after hearing that, everything Geoff had ever said about living for the moment made sense. It wasn't that he didn't want to miss out; he was afraid that he would miss out. He was afraid that he would die prematurely, and his life would have been a waste.

So now I knew why he came here. Why he'd bothered. It was an experience that he didn't want to miss. An opportunity to be had. And he dared to take it, because he was afraid that he'd never get another chance.

I didn't know what to say, or what to do. What do you say to someone you don't know very well that just confessed all of his closet skeletons? I didn't know what I should have done. I didn't know if what I did was right. I put my arms around his shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry, man. I've never had to do anything like that. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you." I said quietly. "But I do know that you can't let that stuff get to you like this. You can't be afraid of something deadly, because then you'd end up missing out on everything."

He stopped hyperventilating when I said that. I'd hoped that would help; I wasn't sure if that would help him calm down or send him spiraling, and I'd really hoped that it was the former. I didn't need a depressed Geoff.

Fortunately, it had helped, so he wiped his eyes, and quietly said, "Thanks, dude. I... I really needed to hear that." He shook his head, and said, "Everybody had always said that I needed to be careful. They always said that if I messed up, I'd end up like them. Nobody ever said what I really needed to hear, you know?"

I nodded. "No biggie, dude." Then I grinned. "Hey. Bridgette's in the infirmary tent, still. You should go visit her. She was pretty scared earlier." Then I sighed, and said, "Don't suppose she'd want a certain guy to talk to that might make her feel better." I shook my head.

He grinned and said, "Hey, thanks, man. I owe you one, seriously."

"Don't mention it." I said, then got serious. "Seriously. You mention it to anybody, I'll kill you." I warned. He rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Sure, sure. Hey, I'll see you back at camp, alright?" He called. I nodded.

Like Trent, Geoff was another person I would want to keep in contact with once this was all said and done. I watched with scrutiny as he ran towards the infirmary tent. I had a strange feeling about all of this, all of a sudden. Since when did I care about other people enough to want to make friends? I frowned, and walked towards the cabin, wondering when exactly I'd become so soft.

* * *

A few hours later, I was sitting outside the Bass cabin, and Courtney came and sat next to me, again.

"Is it safe to talk to you, or are you going to say something vulgar?" She asked seriously.

I shrugged, smiling. "Depends on how the conversation goes. For now, though, no, it's safe." I chuckled wryly. Was that how this was going to work? She would talk to me as long as I was civil? I'd have to remember that for later. It could be a useful defense mechanism, or at least a good means of pissing her off when I needed to.

"Good." She sat down. Wasting no time, she said, "I saw you back there, talking to Geoff." She said accusingly. I raised my eyebrow. '_Yea, talking to Geoff. I do that a lot._' I wanted to say. I didn't, though. I'd keep her around for a while and see if I couldn't get any entertainment out of this conversation. Somehow, I always managed to. It was so easy to push Courtney's buttons. She was way too uptight. If someone had asked me, I would never be able to explain what exactly it was that I liked about her so much.

"And?"

"And, I saw you being nice to him." She accused bluntly. '_Oh._' I thought abruptly. '_That._'

So I shrugged, trying to avoid giving a direct answer. "So what? He's my friend. I can't be nice to my friends?" It wasn't a very good excuse. My customs (not to mention my reputation) dictated that I shouldn't be nice, to anyone, ever, except under certain circumstances. '_Well, I guess that was one of the circumstances._' I thought wrly. '_The dude was crying. Guys don't do that unless something's seriously wrong. You don't make fun a guy crying unless it's over something stupid._'

"I thought you were never nice." She said, grinning, pointing out the exact loophole I'd hoped she would miss. I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I just admitted it.

I shrugged. "I'm nice to my friends." Then I grinned as a great thought occurred to me. In self-defense, I knew that I should end the conversation early, and, simply from what she'd said earlier, I had the perfect means of doing just that. Thank you good timing! I smirked, and said, "And girls who make it worth my while." I turned towards her, and moved just a few centimeters closer.

I should have seen it coming (how did I **not** see it coming?), but she smacked me. Hard. My head, being in the worst possible position to recieve a smack in the face, just barely missed the top step. "Ugh! You are so vile!" She stood up, and stomped away.

I sighed, rubbing my cheek, and whispered, "Only when it suits me."

* * *

Later, Bridgette came up to me, and said, "Hey, Duncan?" Still sitting on the steps to the cabin, I looked up at her. She smiled. "Thanks for earlier. And..." She paused, almost preparing herself for what might be the consequence of her words, "for Geoff. He told me what happened."

I shrugged. "Whatever. Not like it was a big deal. I'm not just gonna leave someone like that. I'm not nice, but I am human." I shrugged, then said, "It's probably about time for Tyler's fear anyways. You wanna head down there?" I asked her casually.

She shrugged. "Yea, sure."

We walked down there almost completely in silence, and she said, "You know, I think Courtney likes you, even though she says she doesn't."

I grinned. "Yea. I think so too."

After that, though, neither of us said anything. It was all silent, but it wasn't an awkward silence. I loved silence, especially the kind where nobody feels like they should say anything; they can just sit there without sound.

We were the last ones to reach the pen, and we stood between Harold and Izzy. Chris was already talking, and Tyler was looking calm. "Alright, gang. We're in the ninth inning. Tyler, for your challenge, you need to get into this pen for three minutes... with these chickens." He then pulled the lid off of a small box, and inside the box was a large brown chicken and two yellow chicks.

Tyler stared at the chicks without moving. Then he looked, wide-eyed, at his team, and then at Chris, and then back at the chickens. He took a deep breath, held it, and climbed over the fence into the pen. Once there, he stood, staring at them for a little while with wide, panicked eyes, until his knees gave out and he fell to the ground.

From next to me, Bridgette yelled, "You can do it, Tyler!"

I grinned. "Yea! Unless, of course, you're chicken." I said, then grinned, and held out my arms like a chicken's wings.

Tyler, in the few seconds it had taken for us to shout at him, was already sitting as far away from the chicks as the pen would allow, wrapping his arms around his knees and rocking back and forth. I wasn't sure if he was breathing. I would have laughed (nervously, but still laughed) if he started turning blue.

Chris put his hands to his hips and frowned. "I'm not sure we're getting anywhere on this one."

Courtney walked up to the side of the pen and said, "Tyler, this is the last challenge! Quit being such a girl! You have to do this, or we're going to lose." Again with her 'saying what they need to hear' strategy. I was impressed at her ability to read people like that. Of course she figured that Tyler wouldn't like to hear himself being compared to a girl, and of course he didn't want to lose.

She was good. I had to admit it. Still, she was being a little harsh, and if I hadn't known her reasoning behind it, I would have said she was acting like a jerk solely because she didn't want to lose the challenge. I wondered how other people were feeling about this. I wondered if they hated her. I wondered if they would consider voting her off tonight. I frowned at the thought, and immediately tried to refocus on what was going on.

Tyler, in his fear, was unable to hear her. Or he was just ignoring her. Either one of them made sense. Then Cody jumped in. "Actually, if you do the math, you can't possibly win." He said, plugging the numbers into his calculator. "The score's seven to three." He was right. I groaned, and put my palm to my forehead. Courtney was not going to respond well to that.

"Not necessarily." Chris said, grinning. "We've got one more challenge set up." He said matter-of-factly. What? But all of us who had a fear had gone already. Did that mean...?

"Who?" Courtney asked for everybody. "It can't be me. But I didn't..." She trailed off, looking at Chris with a confused expression. Chris just stood there grinning. That was never a good sign for anybody involved.

"You didn't have to." Chris said smugly. "We're **always** watching you and your reactions!" He said, grinning. Then he pointed backwards from him to a small pool far away, where we could just barely see Chef mixing something into the pool water. Courtney blanched, her eyes wide.

"Oh, no..." She whispered, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Oh, yes." Chris said, grinning widely.

Then, from next to Harold, Lindsay said, "I knew it! Didn't I tell you guys they were eavesdropping?"

Courtney stared at the pool for another minute, then looked shocked, and finally, instantly relieved. "Oh, who cares? It's not going to make a difference."

Chris just smiled. "Let's make this interesting, then. I'll give you triple points if you can complete it." Courtney's face fell. As long as Tyler didn't jump out in the next minute, and Courtney went through with the dare, we'd be tied with the Gophers. So, then, how would that result? Would there be a tiebreaking round?

Chef came back and said, "It's all set up, man." Then he smirked evilly at Courtney. "Good luck!"

* * *

We all walked over to the pool that Chef had mixed earlier, Courtney looking more and more nervous with every step we took. I had to grab her hand and lead her the rest of the way there, and, while Chef finished mixing it for a few more minutes and Chris stood gloating, I scoffed. "You're afraid of jelly?"

She was shaken out of her trance, and turned around to glare at me. My eyes widened at the feroscity of it. "Shut up! Only the... green kind! It's like sugary, jiggly snot!"

Chris smiled from near the ladder. "You can face your fear and dive straight into this pool of jelly, **or** let your team lose yet another challenge."

Courtney looked at the ladder, then back at Chris, and sighed. She walked over to the ladder, and as she started to climb, she said, "This is insane. I could seriously die doing this!"

From the other team, I heard Gwen said, "Oh, that is just cruel! It's probably warm by now.... Warm, green, jelly, snotty, bouncy... Ugh!" I glared at her. That was the exact opposite of what she needed to hear, and Gwen knew it. As mad as that made me, I had to admit, that was a good way of trying to psyche Courtney out.

Now near the top of the ladder, Courtney shouted, "You're not going to make me quit!"

She needed a little reinforcement. I felt obligated to help her, considering all she'd done to help me earlier. "That's it! Keep climbin'!" I shouted to her encouragingly.

Bridgette added, "She's just trying to psych you out!"

She reached the top of the ladder, and looked down into the pool. I couldn't see from this distance, but she looked utterly terrified. I bit my lip, feeling a mild form of guilt. '_What does she need to hear?_' I wondered. '_What's going to make her jump?!_'

"Like you said, Courtney!" I tried, throwing chance to the winds. "It's okay if you can't do it!" Maybe, since she was just as proud as me, she needed to realize that it was a pride matter, not a points one. I sat there, hoping and praying she'd react. Still, it was alright if she didn't do it. I didn't need a traumatized Courtney on my hands.

Bridgette wasn't so sure. "It is? But we'll lose!"

I gave her a flat look that said, 'Oh, come on! Be encouraging!'

But from the ladder, I heard Courtney say quietly, "I can't do it. I'm coming down!" She turned around and descended the ladder, while the Gopher's cheered. She hung her head, and walked away, and I would have tried to go after her, but Bridgette held me back.

"She needs some time to herself." She said, and I nodded. We turned and headed back to camp while Chris said, "Aaaand there you have it. The Gophers win invincibility this week. Again!"

Then the cameras shut off, and we were able to go back to the cabins in peace. I watched everybody to make sure nobody was going to the confessional. I had to have a private word with them all, and Geoff and DJ were where I had to start. They would be the easiest to persuade.

"Geoff, DJ! Come here a second!" I called after them as we were walking back to the cabins. They slowed down, and DJ asked, "What's up?"

"I know she lost us the game, but—" I started.

"Oh, don't worry. We weren't gonna vote for her anyways." Geoff said, shaking his head.

"Yea, we wouldn't do that to you." DJ said.

I grinned. "Thanks, guys. I owe you one!" I said, clapping their backs, as I slowed down. If that was already three people (four, since I figured she wouldn't vote for herself), I only had to convince... two more people not to vote for her to assure she wasn't getting the boot, even if the others voted for two different people.

And I knew just who to talk to.

* * *

I walked back to camp with my head held high. I had to talk to Harold, and I had to talk to Sadie, since neither of them knew me well enough to know that most of my threats were empty. I called both of them out, and said, "Hey, guys! Walk with me, talk with me." I said, putting my arms around their shoulders companionably. They didn't see the warning signs yet.

As we walked towards the confessional, I talked swiftly. "So, who do you guys intend to vote off?" I asked casually. "I'm voting for Tyler."

"Oh, really?" Sadie asked brightly. "Well, I was gonna vote for Courtney."

"Yea, me too." Harold wheezed. "We really could have won today, if she'd just jumped into that jelly!"

I twitched, and said, "Hmm. You know, guys..." I trailed off, stopping them while we walked. "Nobody on this island knows what I went to Juvie for, do they?" I asked, still casual.

Sadie and Harold exchanged glances, and shook their heads.

"No." I said, still doing my best not to let emotions into this. "So that means that it really could have been anything." I said, and my eyes started getting wide. "**Any**thing." I chuckled dryly.

Sadie and Harold looked like they were about to pee their pants and it took all my restraint not to laugh. "Now, I'm really trying my best not to get sent back to Juvie now that I'm on parole. I'm trying really hard." I looked from one of their faces to the other, and said, "I don't want a **reason** to have to go back on my parole, but I'd be more than willing to make exceptions. So I think that it would be in everybody's best interest if you were to vote off someone else besides Courtney." My voice got quiet, and, grinning ferosciously, I said, "Do I make myself clear?"

They nodded quickly, and I clapped them on their backs, and we headed towards the confessional again. "Good! I'm glad we've come to an agreement." I said, them pushed them both into the confessional. "Oh, and if Courtney gets voted off, I'll know it was you two. I'm already positive of four people who aren't voting her off, so if she gets the boot, well..." I grinned. "Both of you might want to watch out." I said, then shut the door on both of their shocked faces.

I made it sound like I was walking away, but I really only snuck around the back of the confessional, and stuck my ear against the wall.

"What do you think we should do?" Sadie asked fearfully.

Harold wheezed. "I don't know! If he's bluffing, he's a really good actor..."

"But what if he's not bluffing?" Sadie almost shouted. "He's been in Juvie almost all his life. He's a hardened criminal! We don't **know** what he's capable of!"

I could almost hear Harold frown. "...Alright. We won't vote off Courtney. Who do you think we should vote off instead?"

Sadie paused, then said, "How about Tyler? I mean, at least Bridgette's kind of athletic, you know?"

Harold hummed for a second, then said, "....Yea... I guess so." Then he sighed. "I guess so. Yea, let's vote off Tyler." He sighed, sounding reluctant.

From outside the confessional, I snickered into my hand. A few minutes later, they both came out, and I leaned against the side of the confessional, grinning. "If it makes you feel better about sleeping tonight," I started. They both jumped about a mile, and shrieked. I just grinned, and continued, "I didn't go to Juvie for anything half as bad as you were probably thinking."

Then I waved, and entered the confessional myself. I flipped the camera on, and for a while, I just talked about everything that had been going on lately. How much had changed. How different everything was. How much I'd changed. I even hinted at the possibility of me and Courtney getting together; I was feeling it was a "soon" to "little bit" scenario, but I was absolutely certain that it was going to happen. She was like clay in my hands. The situation was mine to mold.

Then, I grabbed a slip of paper, and said, "It's nothing against you, dude, but it's you or my girl." Then I scribbled Tyler's name on the sheet of paper, and put it in the ballot box, and shut off the camera.

Then I left the confessional, and headed back to the cabin for a while to sit and think about things, as I was wont to do. I loved having time to myself to sit and relax and let things go on. It was peaceful. Serene. I preferred being the silent observer sometimes, and this was one of those times. I watched as Harold and Sadie obviously plotted against me. I watched Geoff and Bridgette splash around in the water for a bit, or at least as far as I could see. I smiled. They'd definitely be getting together before the end of the summer, there was no doubt about it. I watched as DJ and Tyler hung out for a bit, probably talking about sports. I felt a little guilty. I liked Tyler, and letting him go would be tough.

But, like I'd said in the confessional, it was him or Courtney, and I wasn't going to lose her before I was able to make her see that she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.

* * *

Later that night, we were at the campfire, and Chris smiled as he gave us our marshmallows, one by one. "Geoff. DJ. Harold. Duncan. Sadie." Then he paused. There were two marshmallows left.

"There are only two marshmallows left on this plate. The three of you did not complete your challenges today. One of you is going home tonight, and you can not return. Ever. The next name I'm gonna call... is... Bridgette!" Relief shown on Bridgette's face as she got up and got her marshmallow. I sat on my stump, completely relaxed. I knew who was going home already. Chris could drag this out all night if he wanted to, because I knew that Courtney wasn't going home.

And, if she was, well, then, I definitely had some revenge to plot. I wasn't a murderer, but I didn't take well to people who disobeyed my direct orders.

"The final marshmallow of the night goes to..." In his short pause, I could see Courtney tense up. Then Chris said, "Courtney!" and she relaxed. Tyler looked downcast, and, quite seriously (though he probably thought I was being sarcastic), I said, "You'll get that chicken next time, dude."

Still looking downcast, Tyler walked to the Dock of Shame completely silently. Watching him walk away like that made me feel kind of sad. I didn't dislike Tyler. It was just a business move that needed to be taken. He was a cool guy, and a good competitor, but this wasn't his competition. Not this one.

"Looks like a new pecking order has been established here." Chris said teasingly.

"It's not like he could cry... foul." I joked back.

"Time for Tyler to... fly the coop." Geoff joined in.

Laughing, Bridgette said, "He won't be flying high tonight!" Bridgette joked.

With a perfectly solemn face, Courtney said, "Okay, that's enough!" She stood up, and walked away. Without even thinking about it, I stood up and followed her. I didn't know why. Something felt off.

So I followed her back to camp, and, just as she was about to go up the stairs, she turned on me and shouted, "Why are you following me?!"

I raised my hands in surrender, and said, "I don't know. Something seemed wrong. I wanted to make sure you were okay." I shouldn't have been so to the point about it, but whatever. She didn't notice.

"Why would anything be wrong?!" She asked, turning her back to me, and walking up the stairs. I frowned.

"I don't know. I was just trying to be nice." I said, starting to raise my voice. Here I was trying to be a good guy, and she was just making it difficult! What was **with** girls sometimes?!

She scoffed. "Oh, yea. Being nice to **me**, I'm so sure!" She said, trying to get into her cabin. But I grabbed her shoulder, and pulled her back out. "Let **go** of me!" She shouted, struggling.

"No." I said solemnly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

She glared at me for a second, then dropped the door. "Why is Tyler on the Boat of Losers?" She asked, point-blank.

I raised an eyebrow. "Um... because he had more people vote him off than anybody else?"

"You know that's not what I mean." She said, glaring. "Why is **Tyler** on the boat, and not me?"

Call me stupid, but I had no idea what she was getting at. "Did you want to be on the boat?" That didn't seem like the Courtney I knew. The Courtney I knew wanted nothing but to win, and would let nothing stand in her way. The Courtney in front of me just sounded like she'd given up, and didn't want anything more to do with anything.

She sighed angrily, and said, "No, but I deserved it more than Tyler did!" She glared. "Why is Tyler on the boat, and not me?"

Oh, that's what she meant. She was wondering why everybody'd shown mercy when it was her fault (and there was no beating around the bush on that, it WAS her fault) for today's loss. I couldn't tell her that it was because of me. That would lead to a variety of unpleasant scenarios, none of which I wanted to be in. So I shrugged, and said, "They probably realized that you've done more for this team than Tyler has, and decided to show mercy. I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this, when it's not." Really, she shouldn't have been so upset. She should have just been glad that it wasn't her uptight butt on the Boat of Losers and be done with it.

But apparently, she thought otherwise. "But that doesn't make any sense!" She said, fuming. "Why would they show mercy? We're all competing against each other her. Why would they want to be nice?!"

I sighed heavily and yelled, "Why can't you just be glad that it's not you on the Boat and get over it?!"

"Because that's not how these things WORK!" She yelled back. We stood at a stand-off, glaring at each other, then she took a deep breath, and sighed. "They should have been mad at me. They should hate me." She scoffed, and said, "I've never really given any of them a reason not to." Then she shook her head and said, "But that's not important. Why would they show me any sympathy when it could have been them going home instead. They should have wanted to all vote me off. It doesn't make sense!"

I softened up, and took the glare off my face. I saw what was going on here. She'd been so worried about getting voted off that she'd convinced herself that they all disliked her, and that they had every reason to vote her off. "Has anyone ever told you that you're probably more competitive than Eva?" I asked quickly, then shook my head and said, "But seriously. It wasn't just your fault we lost today." She looked skeptical, so I edited. "I mean, yea, if you'd jumped, we could have won, but you weren't the only one that punked out. They had just as much reason to vote off Tyler." I said calmly.

She chuckled wryly, and said, "You know, more people would like you if you were nice like this all the time." She said almost as a side note to herself. Then she sighed. "Yea. I guess you're right." She sighed one more time, and slowly said, "Uh... Thanks... Duncan."

I shrugged. "No problem. Looks like today's been a nice day for me. Ugh." I shuddered. "Things are going to be worse tomorrow." I warned jokingly, smiling.

She chuckled. "I'll expect it." Then she opened her cabin door, and said, "Good night." She walked in, and let the door slam after her.

I raised an arm in farewell, and said, "Night." Then I went to my own cabin and, after changing into pajamas, I climbed into bed. I felt worn out, and it was to this that I attributed my outwardly nice behavior. Then I grinned. '_More people would like you if you were nice like this all the time._'

Which, of course, meant that she'd like me more if I were nice like that all the time.

* * *

**A/N:** I've got to give credit where credit is due. Duncan threatening Harold and Sadie was actually a suggestion I recieved from LilyPop101. I mean, her suggestion was different, but I used the idea, and I would be plagiarizing if I didn't tell where the genius originally came from. :P  
Great idea, hun! Thanks a million!! :)

This chapter definitely had some angsty parts in it. The next one will, too. Sorry! Angst is something I'm comfortable writing about. xD


	14. In Which Duncan Gets Angry

**A/N:** I am so, so sorry about the wait. Really, guys, I feel awful, but I just couldn't focus on this story. Every time I opened it on my word processor, I would read through it, and... nothing. Nothing came to me. I was in a writer's block. A terrible, awful, paralyzing writer's block for this story.

But the good news is, I'm out of it. I can write again. Which means that the next part will hopefully be out soon. :)

A word before I let you go; the... thing that causes the rest of this chapter? It's all on Youtube. I didn't come up with any of them myself. So, you know, **DISCLAIMER.** :P

One more, sorry. There's a swear in this chapter. Duncan drops the F bomb. Just once, though. Just warning you.

Aaand, I think that's it. Enjoy Chapter Fourteen!

* * *

A day before the next challenge, I woke up suddenly with an apprehensive feeling in my stomach at six forty-seven. I sat up for a minute, looked around, and laid back down for five minutes. I didn't know how I knew, but something was wrong with today. Something bad.

My prediction turned out to be true, and I realized this the second I walked into the Main Lodge. At the front of the room, a large projection screen was set up, and a video player and projector were connected. I raised an eyebrow, grabbed my food, and sat down next to Geoff and opposite Courtney. She gave me a small smile and looked away from me.

I shrugged, trying to pass it off like it didn't affect me. I put up a good front; I don't think any of the uncomfortable squirming in my stomach showed on my face at all.

* * *

A few minutes into breakfast, Chris came in holding five videos, smiling. Immediately, the atmosphere in the Main Lodge tensed, and Chris must have sensed this. "Oh, don't worry, no challenges today. You have a couple more days." He held up the tapes, then set them down by the video player. "Just got a few messages from home in the mail. Care to watch?"

Everyone else nodded. I stayed silent, unmoving. I had a bad feeling about those videos. A very bad feeling. The apprehensive feeling in my stomach from this morning suddenly made sense; I had one of those videos, I was sure of it.

Chris picked up the first video, shook it tauntingly and said, "From home to... Gwen!" He said. Gwen looked surprised, then smiled, and Chris popped in the tape.

Two people were sitting on a couch, one an older lady, the other a younger boy. The lady spoke first. "Gwen, we miss you so much, your brother and I decided to pay our little neighbor girl to pretend to be you." This earned laughs from everyone, including Gwen.

Her brother looked panicked, and pointed at the lady. "Thaaat was totally mom's idea, Gwen!" Her mom nodded, smiling widely.

The scene then cut to the dinner table, where Gwen's mom sat on one side, her brother sat on the other, and some strange girl with blue hair sat in the middle, looking bored. "Gwen, you haven't even touched your meatloaf!" She said, looking at the camera.

The girl wouldn't bite, and she stared at her plate with a dour expression. "Lady, I'm a vegetarian."

Her mom smiled, and kept looking at the camera. "You're not doing it right." She whispered to the girl through her teeth. The girl obviously didn't care, because she continued to look at her plate as if it was something dead.

"Um, do I have to wait for you two to finish dinner before I get paid?" She asked tiredly. There was an awkward silence, and then Gwen's brother put his hand to his face.

The scene cut back to the two in the living room, and Gwen's mom said, "Needless to say, that may not have been the best idea." She said nervously, while her brother pointed circles around his head, saying, "Cuckoo!"

And then the video was over, and everyone was laughing. Gwen was laughing, but blushing all the same. I felt kind of bad for Gwen. Not only did she have her diary read out loud to the entire viewing world, but now, everybody saw her family for the nut jobs they were.

Still, it had been entertaining, and, while she **was** obviously embarrassed, she didn't look completely mortified.

* * *

Chris then picked up another video, saying, "This one's from home, to... Owen!"

Owen shrieked, and almost jumped out of his seat. Chris popped in the video. The first thing we saw was two very overweight people; his father's end of the couch was sagging down to the floor. "Hey, Owen, this is your folks." His dad said, both he and his mother waving their arms. "Well, you know it's your folks, oh, this is stupid, oh, can we start over?"

His mom jumped in. "They say the camera adds ten pounds, oh, but I don't see it at all! I think you look terrific." She was obviously the doting kind of mother, the kind that would have given her son the moon if he asked for it. I smiled. She looked like a sweet lady. Owen was lucky.

His father cut in again. "Son, that episode where you burped the entire alphabet, I don't think I've ever been prouder to be your father." His father was obviously no better than his mother. I felt myself growing more and more jealous of Owen. He didn't really know how lucky he was.

His mom cut in again. "Be on the lookout, sweetie! I sent you a care package full of gravy." She said. Everyone laughed at this, including Owen, who then looked at Chris suspiciously.

"That should make bath time a little more fun, huh, buddy?" His father finished, nudging his mother. They both chuckled, and the video ended.

Everybody laughed, at the end. Owen chuckled, then eyed Chris. "So, Chris... where's my gravy?"

Chris shrugged, smiling innocently. "Probably not here yet. Videos are easier to send than food." In the kitchen, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Chef shrunk down a little bit, and I chuckled. Then Chris picked up the next video, and said, "This one's from home to... Duncan."

I froze, and felt eighteen pairs of eyes look over to me. This was it. What I'd been dreading since I woke up, this was it. My heart started to pound ten beats per second, and I was surprised my stomach didn't explode. As the video started, I saw my parents on both ends of my couch, and my Parole officer sitting in the middle. My dad looked angry, and my mom looked thrilled. My parole officer looked calm, like always.

"Your parole officer here told us we could tell you we love you." My mom said. '_Told you? You needed his permission?_' I thought scathingly. The inner voice was with me, growling furiously at my mother, glaring and clawing and thrashing around in my head.

My father jumped in. "Despite your arrests for your 'Happy Nude Year' stunt--" And then, as if it wasn't bad enough that everybody now knew one of the reasons I went to Juvie, they showed a **picture** of me, naked, with a banner wrapped around me and a noisemaker in my mouth. I froze, staring at the screen, as I felt several eyes flicker from the video, to me, back to the video.

"--Or for selling your father's hairpiece as a pet--" My mother said, then they showed the picture of me holding my dad's hairpiece on a leash.

"--Or for the pool party in the city hall fountain." Then, the last picture showed me sitting on a floating chair, smiling, in the city hall fountain. Then the picture disappeared, and my parents and parole officer came back on the screen. "Come to think of it, do we love you?" He asked, quite seriously. My heart sank, and I felt a ball of raw, black rage throb in its place almost immediately.

My mother looked shocked, then angry. "That's a terrible thing to say!" Like she hadn't thought it before too. I snarled at the TV screen. I couldn't feel the expression on my face, but I could tell, from how I was feeling, exactly how I looked.

But my father argued back. "Well, the boy's a criminal!"

My mother, still angry, waved it off. "That hairpiece is what's criminal." She muttered, while his hand traveled up to his hairpiece in worry.

My parole officer then jumped in. "What pool party?"

Their argument temporarily forgotten, my parents looked nervous. My dad chuckled. "Uh-oh. Son, uh, I hope you win that cash. Heh. Your lawyer's gonna need it." Then the video ended, and everybody looked at me. I sat, rooted to my spot, unable to move, my face locked in a snarl, baring my teeth. I couldn't make a sound. My left eye twitched once, and my mind started to race. Nobody else moved, either; I wouldn't have been surprised if none of them were even breathing.

'_All that stuff they said..._' I whispered in my head. '_And the **picture**. They just **had** to show that picture... And in front of..._' At this thought, I stood up, quickly, angrily, and walked as calmly as possible to the door, barely noticing that I'd knocked my chair over in the process. I ignored the stares; none of these people were relevant to me right now, none of them mattered, except Courtney, whose face I couldn't bring myself to look at. I reached the door and pushed it open, trying not to exert too much force. It slammed against the outer wall with a loud "BANG" anyways, reverberated on its hinges for a few seconds, and closed quietly behind me. I headed straight for the woods, with every intention of getting myself lost.

But I didn't get very far before a heavy rage ate at me from the inside out, and I found the nearest tree and punched it, hard. I couldn't feel my hand, now, but I looked at it and saw that it was raw and bright red. And still the rage was not abated; not even close. I tried punching the tree again, and again, but nothing worked. I'd used violence as a solution to my rage for so long that I was immune to it now. I would have to find a new means of letting out my anger.

So, loudly enough that I expected them to hear it all the way back in the Main Lodge, I half-screamed, half-growled, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

I took a deep breath and screamed some more, mostly random, guttural sounds that didn't have meaning but seriously helped to calm me down. After I stopped screaming loudly, I let out a few quieter, angrier shouts, while I kicked the base of a tree a few times. And when I was done, the worst of the rage was gone, leaving a quieter, much easily placated anger in the pit of my stomach, and my heart beating quickly in its original place.

* * *

After that, I walked back to camp. There weren't many people outside, but those that were stared at me with wide eyes, and made sure to not be in my way. I ignored them, and stomped over to my cabin. Geoff and DJ were inside, talking quietly, and nearly jumped out of their skin when I came in. Like the people outside, I ignored them, and walked over to my bunk. I think they tried talking to me, but I wasn't sure. I couldn't hear anything. I came in with a purpose; to get my mP3 player, and get out as quickly as possible.

I jumped onto my bunk and grabbed the small player and my headphones. I made sure it was fully charged (it wouldn't have mattered if it wasn't; I came in here and ignored the guys, just to get my mP3 player. It would have been embarrassing to leave without it when I went through so much to get it), picked it up, and left, throwing my headphones around my neck and finding something loud to put on.

As I quickly left the cabin, I almost ran into Courtney, who was outside the door, looking apprehensive. I stopped short in my tracks and she gasped. I stared at her with wide eyes for a second, thinking about what she might have been trying to tell me. '_She's probably going to laugh about the Happy Nude Year' thing._' The inner voice said quickly. I bit my lip and as she opened her mouth to say something, I carefully pushed her backwards with my hand on her shoulder and walked right by her.

"Duncan!" She called after me. I just kept walking, faster now than earlier, trying to ignore her and I found something to listen to. "Duncan!" I growled and started to run, just as I heard Pantera blasting out of my headphones, and I almost laughed at the irony of the lyrics: '_Can't you see I'm easily bothered by persistence? One step from lashing out at you?_'

As I ran into the woods, I couldn't tell if she was coming after me or not. I hoped she wasn't. I intended to get lost and have some time to think about my life and everything I'd done that I've come to regret and would have to regret before I could get over it. I couldn't have company if I expected to do this seriously, and Courtney definitely qualified as company. So I ran faster, as fast as I could, not watching where I was going to make sure I wouldn't be found easily. I had to be alone. I always had to be alone. That's how I functioned. That's how I survived this far.

* * *

Considering the fact that I found artists I liked and put on every song of theirs (pirated, that I'd downloaded off my computer. I just couldn't do anything the right way), it was best if I put my mP3 player on shuffle. That being said, for the next few hours, I listened to a montage of songs, and tried to clear my head so I could think rationally.

But I couldn't do it. Every time I thought I was calm enough to think about it, I thought of Courtney and what her new opinion of me had to be, and got angry again. I was getting worn out just thinking about it, and I wasn't even moving. My heartbeat was fluctuating from fast to slow and back again. It was a merry-go-round of adrenaline, and I was only sitting down.

I think the loud music helped. My mP3 player shifted from Pantera to Children of Bodom to Dimmu Borgir to Dethklok to Amon Amarth to Behemoth to Metallica to the Beatles (which I skipped over), to Dimmu Borgir again, and around and around through songs I loved. It was loud. It was angry. And it suited me perfectly.

* * *

I don't know how long I'd been walking. It had to have been a long time, because night was approaching and my legs were tired. But I wasn't ready to go back to camp or be around other people. I wasn't in the mood to be ridiculed, or avoided, and I was definitely not in the mood to see Courtney. So I climbed the nearest tree, carefully, so as not to fall and crush my mP3 player, and reclined in the lowest branch.

I knew in the depths of my mind that it was stupid and risky, but I shut the inner voice right up by saying that it wasn't the first time I'd gone against my better judgment, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The inner voice sighed; it had calmed down much quicker than I had, and now, the only thing still hurting was my pride.

I wasn't sure what to do with myself, now. Everything that had gone on today... And my parents, and Courtney, and the guys. I had so much to think about that I didn't really know where to start thinking, and how to stop. I didn't know what to make of any of it, and it was like this, confused, angry, upset and alone, that I fell asleep to 'Girl' by the Beatles, too tired and indifferent to change it.

* * *

Courtney woke up bright and early the next morning, and the first thing on her mind wasn't getting breakfast, or going to the bathroom, but whether or not Duncan had ever returned to camp. She'd spent a good part of yesterday night looking for him in the woods, making sure to check up in the trees, but either he'd gone deep into the woods, or was still moving, and they kept missing each other, or was a very good hider, because she couldn't find him anywhere.

But that wouldn't stop her from looking. She got dressed quickly in something that she didn't mind getting dirty, quickly peeked in the boy's side of the cabin to see if he was there, and saw that he wasn't. She went to the bathroom, quickly ate breakfast, and grabbed a bottle of water from Chef before heading into the woods, determined to find him before something much more lethal did.

As she walked, she thought about why she cared so much whether or not Duncan lived or died. At first, she was in complete denial; '_He's on my team! If he dies, we're another player short! Not to mention, he's a fierce competitor._' But as time wore on, and she got more and more concerned, her thoughts were making less and less sense.

In her mind's eye, she saw the look on Duncan's face as he watched the video. He'd started out looking apprehensive, even a little nervous. But as the video played, his face contorted more and more into a deeper rage and she couldn't pretend she didn't see the brief pain that flickered across his face when his father had asked if they really loved him. And when he left, and they all heard those terrible screams of pent-up emotions; she couldn't pretend that they didn't hear the sadness under all the fury.

She felt really bad. All this time she'd been making fun of him, and she didn't even know. She didn't know what his life was like. She didn't know why he was who he was, why he wore what he did, why he acted the way he did. She'd sort of thought it was a result of just being stubborn and stupid. She never thought that someone as... as... well, as idiotic as Duncan could have much going on psychologically, and she felt bad now for assuming it.

So she nodded, and continued to look harder. She would try her best to make amends, because she felt that that was what she owed him, now, for all the grief he'd been through, and all the grief she herself had put him through.

But she couldn't chalk it up to pity when she felt nothing but relief when she found him dozing lightly in a tree, and she didn't even try to diagnose why her heart beat as rapidly as it did, and why she took a deep breath and let out such a long sigh while she climbed up and sat next to him.

* * *

I'd never slept in a tree in the woods before, but I'd have to make a mental note not to do it ever again. I woke up frequently during the middle of the night, whether it was because of discomfort, or because I heard weird noises from deeper in the woods, or even because I panicked, and for a brief second thought I was falling out of the tree.

When I finally woke up for good, feeling almost as, if not more, tired than I was when I fell asleep, I shook my head and yawned. My back was killing me, but I guess I had nobody to blame but myself. I didn't **have** to fall asleep in a tree. I could have slept on the ground, behind a bush, and hoped at prayed that nothing in the woods found me when I was that vulnerable.

Then I blinked, and shook my head again. Nah. Tree was safer. Sure, I could have fallen out without even knowing it, but at least in the tree I was safe from most animals.

Speaking of falling out of trees, I almost fell out of the tree in shock when I sat up and saw Courtney sitting comfortably down near my feet. I managed to regain my balance, fortunately, and looked at her strangely. "What are you doing here?" I asked incredulously. Was I still dreaming?

She looked at me, and gave me a half smile. "Looking for you. You didn't come back yesterday, so I was checking to make sure you weren't dead."

I raised an eyebrow, and then everything came rushing back to me like a tidal wave. The video, my anger, my pride, all rushed into me like they were in a race. I scowled, and sat up, facing away from her, hanging my legs over the side of the branch. "What's it to you? Why would you care if I was dead?"

I couldn't see her scowl, but I knew it was there. "Duncan, I know you're upset, and--"

"I'm **not** upset!" I yelled, turning my head to glare at her.

She didn't believe me, and instead gave me a 'yea right' look, complete with one raised eyebrow and arms crossed across her chest. I scowled, and looked away. I was **not** upset. My parents could go and die for all I cared. "Oh, please, Duncan." She said calmly. "I saw how you responded to that video yesterday."

I stiffened. "So? What of it? Anybody would get mad." Yea, really. Anybody would have gotten mad if their parents showed naked pictures of them. It's embarrassing when you're a baby and naked, but when you're fifteen and naked, then it's just going over the line.

She was gentle when she said, "Anybody would get upset, too."

I scowled, and sighed angrily. "I'm not upset. Why do you think that I'm that sensitive enough to get upset? I'm not. I don't get upset." I denied. I think I might have overdone it a bit, and I mentally smacked myself in the forehead for getting so overly defensive. I mean, yea, I **had** been upset, but I'd be damned if I let her know that.

She continued to see right through me. "Look, Duncan, I'm not going to tell anybody. What happens in the forest, stays in the forest." She said, holding up three fingers in the scouts honor symbol.

I just looked at her for a second, and looked at the symbol, and then burst out laughing. She looked at me, confused, then grinned and started to laugh, too. I couldn't have even said what was so funny, but whatever it was, it was ridiculous, and I laughed until my stomach hurt.

When I finished laughing, I held onto my stomach for a minute and wiped a tear from my eye. She just kept grinning, and shook her head. "Do you even know why you were laughing?" She asked.

I shook my head. "Not a clue. But something about you giving the scouts honor symbol was hilarious." I chuckled, and shook my head. "But seriously, though." I said calmly, and she looked at my curiously. "I wasn't upset about what they said. I was just really, really angry."

"So then, what about the look on your face when your dad said, 'come to think of it, do we love you?'" She asked me, seriously. My jaw clenched, and my fist tightened, and I looked away, glaring. She didn't have to bring it up again. We were having a pleasant time before she started talking about it.

"What about it?" I asked, being defensive again. I don't know what she was trying, but she wasn't going to get me to admit to being upset. I would admit it to myself, but I wouldn't ever say it out loud, no matter just how 'scouts honorable' she was. I'd been in Juvie too often. Admitting feelings that weren't anger out loud was just impossible for me. I appreciated her effort, but she was fighting a losing battle.

"I saw it, Duncan. For a split second, you looked like Christmas was canceled." Her voice was soft, as if being quiet would have helped make me admit it. I bit my lip uncomfortably. Had I even looked like that? I couldn't remember. I remembered anger, lots and lots of anger that I couldn't abate, and I remembered feeling like I'd been punched in the stomach when he said that, but I didn't remember being even remotely sad until I was in the woods, away from everybody else. So I squinted my eyes.

"You promise? Not a word to anybody?" I asked, glaring at her sideways. She nodded, and for some strange reason, held out her pinky finger. I looked at it for a second, then looked at her with an eyebrow raised. She sighed, mock-impatiently, and grabbed my hand. She linked her pinky around mine, and said, "Pinky promise. Not a word."

I raised my eyebrow, looking at her strangely, then sighed. My stomach was squirming uncomfortably. I don't know what made me do it. I wasn't sure if it was because I liked her, a lot, or if it was because I was going soft, or maybe, just maybe, I trusted her to keep it a secret, but I told her. I told her what I'd never (and would never) told anybody else. I took a deep breath, and said, "Yea, I was upset. Not **very** upset, because I was too angry to really acknowledge it, but I was upset."

And after I said it, I felt better. She gave me a small smile. "Any better?"

My eyes widened a little bit, and I nodded. "Yea. Actually, yes."

* * *

For a while after that, we stayed in the woods, conversing about the challenges, and the other campers, and Chris, and Chef, and the washrooms, and the beach, and the cabins, and the Gophers. She didn't mention the videos again, and I was glad. It was one thing to admit it, and be done with it, but if she'd made me drag it out, I might have had to get up and leave.

Eventually, I turned my mP3 player on, and we listened to some music. My mP3 player was pretty nifty in the regard that, if you don't touch it for a while, it'll shut off by itself to conserve battery, so it still had a few hours left. The first few songs to come on were metal, heavy songs that made her scrunch her nose. "How can you listen to this stuff? You can't even understand what they're saying!"

I shrugged. "It's loud. It has a good beat, and the musicians are talented. You don't need to understand the words as long as you can get into it." I explained, and turned up the volume. It was Behemoth. I grinned; they were one of my favorite bands. "So, what do you listen to, then? Rap? Hip-hop?" I asked teasingly.

She shook her head. "Nope. Classical. Sometimes oldies."

"Classical? You mean, like, pianos and violins and stuff?"

She nodded. "Yea. I didn't bring my mP3 player with me to camp, but on it, I've got a lot of Tchaikovsky, and Bach, and Mozart." She chuckled a little bit, and said, "Pretty much nobody else at my school listens to it. But it's alright, because a lot of my school are Beatles fans, and a lot of people like ABBA and Elvis."

I burst out laughing. "You listen to Elvis?!"

She nodded, pursing her lips a bit. "What? You're laughing at me for listening to what I like?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all. I just never figured you'd be a fan. You don't seem the type." She grinned. "But you said you like the Beatles, too?" She nodded, and looked away.

"Yea. My parents were big fans, so, naturally, they listened to it all the time, and I got into it." She shrugged. "It's not like they're bad or anything. I probably would have liked them eventually anyways."

I nodded. "Yea, I'm a fan, too."

And then, as if Fate himself were sitting with us and enjoying our conversation, a Beatles song came on. A short guitar intro led into, '_I want you. I want you so baaaad._'

I exchanged glances with Courtney, and we both looked away. The song fit my feelings perfectly, and I think she knew that. My face started to feel a little hot, and I tried to beat my blush back. I was feeling a little bit embarrassed, but on top of that, I felt kind of warm. Light. I'd managed to have a conversation with Courtney that didn't end in her slapping me and walking away angrily. I didn't want to ruin it, but already, the jokes were threatening to fall out of my mouth like word vomit. I cleared my throat.

"I think it's about time we head back to camp." I said awkwardly, not looking at her. I didn't want her to see that I was blushing. That would have been REALLY embarrassing.

"Yea, I agree. It's probably lunch time anyways." She said, equally as awkward.

* * *

I jumped down from the tree, and waited for her to climb down. I turned my mP3 player off, shoved it in my pocket and threw my headphones around my neck. I tried to keep my back turned to her, because, despite that I wasn't embarrassed anymore, my face still felt too hot. I don't know why I bothered anymore. She knew I was soft, now, there was no getting around it. I guess there was a different between being soft and being in love with her.

We walked back to the camp almost completely silent. It was kind of an awkward silence, but not uncomfortably awkward. It was tolerable. The kind of silence that people felt after one of them said something stupid, and neither wanted to say anything that might make it worse.

When we were near the camp, though, I stopped her, and looked her straight in the eye. "Remember," I said warningly. "Not a word. You promised."

She smiled. "Relax, Duncan. I won't tell anybody." Then she walked away, and I stood for a moment, and watched her walk away.

What was it about her that made me so willing to trust her? I waited until she was far enough away to not hear me walking to finally follow. I don't know why, but I knew I trusted her. I blinked a few times, and frowned, confused. Why? Why did I trust her? When I didn't trust anybody else in this world, why did I trust her, now, after only knowing her for a few weeks? It didn't make any sense.

I was quiet for the rest of the day. I ate lunch with the others, and dinner, but I didn't talk to any of them, and none of them talked to me. I didn't know if they were avoiding me, or if they just didn't want to get too close, of it they figured that I wanted to be alone, but I spent the entire day contemplating why it was so easy for me to trust her.

I spent any time not at meals or in the washrooms in my cabin, laying face down in my bunk. I listened to my mP3 player while it was charging, so ignoring anybody who came in (if anybody came in) was easier.

I fell asleep that night, still thinking, and still asking myself questions, and I was no closer to an answer than I was that morning.

* * *

**A/N:** Bleh. I'm not big on the ending, there, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it. xP


	15. Up The Creek

**A/N:** Hey. Yea, I know. It's been a long, long time. I'm sorry. I really am. Really, really, really, really, really, REALLY sorry. I intended to write. I intended to update. I tried. I really did. But I couldn't. For reasons that I don't think I should explain, I couldn't write. I wasn't doing well. We'll leave it at that.  
But I'm better now. Much, much better. Everything broken has been fixed. I'm okay again.

That being said, at long last, I finally managed to get around to updating. :) So, that being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

I've got to give you a warning. I don't think the next chapter will be one of my best. I don't think. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to make that one go. But to be honest, if it's not great, it'll be because I am very, very excited about Paintball Deer Hunter. Like, I was considering just not writing an in between chapter, but then I realized that that's being a poor author, just skipping by something because I didn't want to do it. Pfft. :P

One more thing. It's not entirely canon (or at least, I don't think it is), but the end of the chapter was sort of necessary for me, for something I wanted to do. You'll see why later.

And because I realized I've been forgetting it:  
Readers: You are my sunshine. Without you, I'd have nothing.  
Reviewers: You are my photosynthetic energy. Without you, I'd have no energy (or, because I'm not a plant, no will to write as often as I should).

Alright! Without further ramblings by me, here you go. Chapter... fifteen? Yea. Chapter fifteen.

* * *

I woke up the next morning, still tired, and more restless than ever. I'd had a long, troubled sleep. I kept having this dream about Courtney, and my parents, and I couldn't remember any of it except that, for some reason, everyone was mad at me. I couldn't get around it, and I couldn't work my thoughts through it. In the end, I decided to try to put it out of mind, because today was a challenge day, and I was certain that almost anything Chris had cooked up for us would require most, if not all, of my attention.

It was harder than I thought, though, to put her out of my mind, because she had this strange knack for showing up when I didn't want her to. This morning, I ended up running into her right outside the stairs. I had a towel and clean clothes in my hands. So did she. I gave her a small smirk, and waved my hands towards the washrooms, saying, "Ladies first."

To my surprise, she didn't hesitate. She didn't turn around. She didn't even glare and call me a pig. All she said was, "Thank you," and then headed to the washrooms. I followed her, staring curiously at the back of her head, wondering why she was suddenly so comfortable with the idea of us being in the same room without clothes on. I mean, sure there were walls between us, and the doors were lockable, but still. I was a criminal, who laughed at locked doors and scoffed at rules and at courtesy. She knew that.

We reached the washrooms, and she entered one of the shower stalls. Finally thinking clearly, she gave me a warning; "If you even think about peeking, I'll--"

"I know, I know." I said, raising my arms in surrender, and entering the stall opposite hers. I shut the door and locked it before she could say anything else. To be honest, she didn't need to tell me. I didn't intend on peeking. If I wanted her that way bad enough, I was absolutely positive I could get her. I'd gotten many a prude chick to sleep with me in the past. It was all a matter of knowing what and what not to say. The thing was, and I was just as surprised as anybody else, I didn't want her that way bad enough. Well, no, let me rephrase: I wanted her that way more than bad enough. But I wanted her the other way, too. I wanted her in bed, of course I did. I was a teenage dude, that's what anywhere from most to all of us want. But the thing was, from somewhere deep, deep inside me, somewhere that I'd never had to acknowledge, I wanted her to like me for me. I wanted her to want me just as bad as I wanted her. And it was this want, this need, that kept me from sleeping with her. For now, at least. Sure, I could say things like that to her, things that made me seem like all the other teenage boys out there, but I would never force myself on her, and I would always be 'just kidding.' I had to be patient. Patience was key. Patience would solve all of my problems.

I got in my shower, and quickly washed. I let her take the good shower, so my water would be cold in about ten minutes, and I didn't want to get caught in that. I was out just as the water started to go cold, and I was out much sooner than she was. I made sure to dress quickly, and towel-dried my hair. I walked out of the stall to a mirror, and fixed up my mohawk, and put in my piercings. I brushed my teeth, and re-checked to make sure my mohawk wouldn't fall, and then I left. I was completely ready for the day before Courtney was even done with her shower.

Everybody was in a rush to eat breakfast. We all knew what day it was. Challenge day. The day nobody wanted it to be. The day one of our sorry butts was going home. I looked around the Main Lodge, and saw that edgy look that everybody got in their eyes on challenge days. That untrusting, knowing look that people get when they know that it's them against the world. Just as we were all just about done eating, Chris announced over the loudspeaker to meet him next to the beach in fifteen minutes.

It was time.

* * *

As I stood up to dump my breakfast tray, many eyes glanced up in alarm to see what I was doing before glancing back down in embarrassment. At first, I was confused, but that didn't last long. They were afraid of another outburst. I sighed, dumped my tray, and left the Main Lodge. Really, I didn't blame them for worrying, still. It couldn't have been pleasant seeing an outburst like that. I wouldn't have wanted to be on the receiving end, almost as badly as I didn't want to be on the giving end.

"Don't worry about them." Courtney said suddenly, from behind me, causing me to jump. "Most of them are just concerned about your mental state of mind. They want to make sure you're not crazy, or going to have another episode like before."

I kept walking silently for a beat, then said sarcastically, "Thanks, Courtney. That makes me feel a lot better." And even though I rolled my eyes, I didn't actually mean it. I hoped she knew I was only joking. I was pretty sure she did. I headed towards the cabins, and reached the boy's side door. I turned around to see she was still tailing me. I wasn't very surprised to find that I didn't mind it that much. "Hang on a second. Just gotta grab something before we head over to the challenge." She nodded, and I ran into the cabin. In a hurry, I grabbed my lighter, my knife, and a small can of spray paint. You never knew when you were going to need the essentials.

Quickly, just in case she was impatient, I hurried back out of the cabin to see her leaning against the wall right next to the door. "Ready?" She asked, and tilted her head to the side. I nodded.

"Let's go."

* * *

Chris was standing there, as usual, with a wide grin on his face. "Bass, Gophers. Today's challenge is a true summer camp experience. A canoe trip." He said, then gestured over his shoulder towards the beach where seven canoes were lined up, four green, three red. "You'll be paddling your canoes across the lake," He went on to say, "to Boney Island." Then he smiled. "When you get there, you must portage your canoes to the other side of the island. Which is about a two hour hike through treacherous, dense jungle."

Geoff, who was standing a few people away from me, was scratching the back of his head. "We've got to por-what?" Bridgette and DJ just put their palms to their foreheads. I would have too, except that I was focusing rather intently Courtney's way-too-close proximity. She was definitely more than halfway in my personal bubble. I definitely didn't mind it.

"Portagggge." Chris accentuated. When Geoff continued to look at him like a lost child, Chris angrily said, "Dude. Walk with your canoe." Then he winked, while Geoff said, "Oh."

That entire scene forgotten, Chris carried on. "When you arrive at the other end of the island, you'll build a rescue fire that will be judged by me. The first team to paddle home and return their canoes to the beach is the winner of invincibility." Then he clenched a fist, pointed his thumb over his shoulder and said, "Move, campers, move!"

We all ran forward towards the beach before he stopped us. "Oh, wait! One more thing I should mention." We all stopped. This was critical. The miniscule details that Chris made unimportant were normally the things that would cost us our lives. "Legend has it, if you take anything off the island, you'll be cursed forever!" Then, as if on cue, we heard thunder, and all gasped.

Then Owen grinned. "Yea! A cursed island! Woo!" We all looked at him for a minute. When he noticed, he frowned and lowered his arms.

"Now!" Chris said from next to his easel with his widest smile yet. I swear, sometimes he was more cynical than I was. Although, I had to admit, if it had been Chris in the canoes, and I was the host, I probably would have laughed too. "Get in your canoes, and let's have some fun!"

* * *

We made our way down to the beach, and I was faced with a problem. Everybody on my team except Courtney thought I was nuts, and would snap as soon as look at them. So, to save my butt from being eliminated, I didn't want to team up with people who had a lot of influence on the team, or anyone who was afraid of me. That meant Geoff and DJ were out. I wanted to give them a little space, let them know I wasn't two shades from swirly. I considered asking Courtney, but shot that down immediately. She'd team up with Bridgette, most likely. Which meant that my only option left was...

I smirked as I put my arms around Harold and Sadie's shoulders. They gasped, and I said, "Hey, you guys don't mind if I team up with you, do you?"

Too quickly to sound calm, Sadie said, "Not at all!"

I climbed into the middle, and said, with a queer, creepy sort of grin on my face, "Hey, you guys don't mind paddling, do you?" They shook their heads, and I sat down and crossed my arms. "Good. Thanks, guys."

They pushed the canoe into the water, and Sadie climbed in front of me, while Harold sat down behind me. I didn't feel bad about hijacking their would-have-been-pleasant canoe trip, but I did feel bad for them. They were obviously afraid of me, and I knew my outburst the other day wasn't the only reason. But I had to do what I had to do, and I knew that between Harold and Geoff, Geoff had way more influence over who voted for who. Besides, I didn't really want to row that much anyways. And teaming up with them was an easy way to assure my laziness.

They rowed us to the starting point, and I looked to my right. Courtney was sitting in the back of a canoe with Bridgette, as I'd expected. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up and caught my eyes. She gave me a half smile and a shrug, and I smiled back, an honest to goodness smile, completely by accident. I quickly looked ahead and wiped the smile off my face, though, before the cameras could catch it.

Then Chris came up behind us, in the water, no less, and handed me an oar. "What's this?" I asked, frowning, and trying to push it back. He wouldn't take it. I didn't honestly think it would. My question was rhetorical. I knew what this was. I just didn't want it to be true.

"If you're gonna ride, you're gonna row." He said with that way-too-happy smirk that boiled my blood and brought on a scowl. Harold and Sadie looked like they were going to pee their pants, and I had other eyes on me as well. And then I realized. This did not look good. This would result in my getting kicked off. So I had to relax. I couldn't let what happened to Eva happen to me. I was too cunning. I was too smart. I had brains and brawn at my disposal, and I'd be damned if I was going to get kicked off over something this trivial. So I took the oar, took a deep breath, wiped the scowl off my face, and said, "Okay then."

And I would have sworn before God that, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Courtney smile.

* * *

Chris showed us his starting pistol before he started the countdown so as not to give any of us heart attacks when he shot it. "On your marks... get set... paddle!" Then he shot the pistol, and, all at once, our arms all started to move and all the canoes moved quickly forward.

I'd forgotten how relaxing canoeing was. In my life, I'd only gone twice, during family camping trips with my older brothers and my parents, before they hated me. Or I hated them. Whichever came first. And both times, I'd asked to borrow the canoe, and I'd gone out rowing by myself early in the morning, and I laid back and rested in the sun before it got too hot outside to do anything other than swim.

You know those memories that you forget about until you smell something familiar, or do a certain action that you used to do? That's what this was. While rowing, I felt nostalgic, and visited those memories at my leisure. My canoe team wasn't exactly up for conversation, anyways, or at least, not with me. I chuckled, and we pushed on across the lake.

* * *

We paddled for a long, long time. It felt like longer than it was, because I'd really only been half-assing it the whole time. I didn't try my best to paddle faster because I knew that Harold and Sadie had it covered. I threw in a stroke every few minutes just for the camera's sake. I didn't want to look extremely lazy, even though I was.

Then it started to get foggy, and eventually, we reached the island. I watched, but didn't really listen, as Izzy the crazy girl spazzed out about the island. Eventually, Harold, Sadie and I climbed out of our canoe, and waited for the rest of the Bass to get ready. The Gophers were already running towards the forest, so we very quickly lifted the canoes over ours heads and followed suit. I had to run slowly; Sadie and Harold weren't very good runners. I was tempted to just take it myself, especially when, after we'd wasted so much effort trying to catch up and keep up, my team had to slow down because Harold and Sadie couldn't run fast enough, and they passed us. A few minutes later, we passed them again.

Eventually (way too early for me, but just in time for Harold and Sadie), we slowed to a walk, and calmly walked down the path in the forest. The entire island had a creepy air, even to me. The giant skull boded ill, and I didn't trust it. The skulls on stakes weren't very reassuring, either. Who knew what sort of traps Chris had planted here? We would never know, never even be able to guess, until we fell into one. So we carefully walked across the island, instead of running and getting stuck somewhere.

Eventually, we came to a fork in the path, and stopped entirely. Harold and Sadie were red in the face, and everybody else definitely looked tired. I wondered how I looked. I didn't feel tired. I felt like I'd barely broken a sweat.

"So, which are way we gonna go?" DJ asked, his head hidden by his canoe. Geoff wasn't tall enough to hold it any higher, so DJ had to deal with his head being covered. He'd probably tripped a few times considering he had scuffs on his knees.

"Left." Courtney said, waving in the direction and almost dropping her canoe. She caught herself, and, smiling apologetically at Bridgette's flat look, she said, "Definitely left."

'_God, woman, watch yourself._' The inner voice said. I nodded my head just barely, thinking the same thing. If she got hurt, I'd kill Chris. It was his fault, after all.

"I dunno." Geoff disagreed. "I think we should take the one on the right." I raised an eyebrow and looked towards the paths, wondering why it would really matter. Then I noticed that the path on the right was wider, and, even though I didn't say anything out loud, I agreed.

"The right trail is wider." Bridgette said to Courtney, who shrugged. I didn't see anything after that, but I had to assume that Geoff was staring at her, because Bridgette then said, "What are you looking at?" Oh, poor Geoff. Poor, stupid Geoff. Someone had to give that guy a clue before he ruined any chance of Bridgette ever liking him enough to go out with him.

* * *

After that entire exchange, we made our way to the beach. We were walking down the path when suddenly, I hear a loud, "Oh!" and see, just around Sadie's shoulder, Geoff collapse, clutching his leg. "Oh, my leg!" He moaned, grimacing. "I'm down! I'm down!" Then he rolled onto his back, and rose his arms toward the sky. "Oh, it's so unfair! Why did this have to happen now? Why? **Why**?!"

We put our canoes down and Bridgette shouted, "Geoff!" Completely abandoning our canoes, we all stood in a circle around Geoff, feeling apprehensive and sympathetic.

"You've got to go on without me!" Geoff said, clutching his leg again. He looked in pain. I wondered what it was that was bothering him. As he was sobbing, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up to see Courtney turn towards the beach and keep walking. I had to stifle a laugh. Was she so determined to win, she would leave a fallen teammate? If she was, well, then, she was definitely my kind of girl. But DJ grabbed her arm, and said, "We're not leaving any man behind. Not on my watch."

"Well, then, do you have any ideas for how to move him?" Courtney asked impatiently. "No offense, Geoff, but if we have to wait for you, it'll slow us down and we'll lose the challenge." She crossed her arms, looking defensive.

"Actually, I have an idea." DJ said. "I'm going to put you on a canoe, and carry you and the canoe to the beach." He said, and pulled a canoe over to Geoff. Carefully, he lifted Geoff's torso and leaned him against the canoe, then carefully moved Geoff's legs onto the canoe. Then he lifted Geoff's torso onto the canoe, and grinned. "Piece of cake."

Then he tried to lift the canoe. As it turned out, Geoff was too heavy for him to carry by himself. I was about to offer when Harold ran over and helped DJ lift the canoe off the ground. My eyes widened. I hadn't known Harold was so strong, but I guess I should have learned by now not to let his appearance fool me. He managed to find a way to surprise me almost every challenge.

Geoff safely secured on the top of the canoe, everybody else ran back to their canoes and lifted them, and we ran full speed towards the beach.

* * *

When we arrived, we found the Gophers, already with firewood, attempting to start it using a couple rocks. Courtney was furious. "Great! They're already here!" She growled a high-pitched growl, and kicked her feet against the sand, sending a cloud of it into the air.

"Relax, Princess. We're fine. They're not that far ahead of us." I grinned. "Just gather some wood, as dry as possible. I can start us a fire." Everybody nodded, and gathered some firewood while I went to look for some dry driftwood or some dead grass. Anything that would light quickly and catch to other pieces of wood. Scanning the forest edge, I found some dead twigs with bark peeling off unevenly in some spots, and punched the air. "Score!" I grabbed as many pieces of it as I could, and ran back to our spot.

"Is that really how you're going to start our fire?" Courtney asked dubiously, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. I smiled at the doubt in her tone. She really should have learned by now that I was prepared with all of the juvenile delinquent essentials--a knife, a lighter and spray paint. I threw all of my dry twigs onto the other pieces my team had collected except for three of my pieces, and shook my head, grinning at her. Then I pulled my lighter out of my pocket, set the three twigs on fire, and threw them in with the others. The fire then grew, slowly but surely, and Courtney grinned at me before lowering herself on her hands and knees, blowing on the fire.

"How did they do that so quickly?" I heard Heather ask her teammates. I walked closer to the Gophers, pulled out my lighter, and flicked the flame to life. They looked surprised. I didn't blame them.

Unfortunately, our fire still wasn't big enough to win, so we spent the rest of our time looking for dry, dead pieces of wood that would catch quickly and grow our fire, but all the wood we could find on our half of the beach wasn't big enough or dry enough. We had to hurry and find an alternative, or else we were going to lose.

"I don't think this is going to be big enough." Courtney said after watching the fire grow for a few minutes with all of the wood we could find.

"You heard the woman. We need more wood guys. Come on! Let's go!" DJ said, and while Bridgette looked at Geoff's leg, the rest of us went to look for more wood. While I had my back turned, I heard the rest of the team gasp, and I looked over to find Harold throwing our oars into the fire. My jaw dropped, and I couldn't say a word.

So good thing Bridgette could. In an almost perfect imitation of Courtney, she raised her arms towards the sky and shouted, "How are we supposed to get home, now?!" Harold looked taken aback, and had just opened his mouth to say something when a large explosion from the Gopher side attracted our attention. We looked over to see a very, very large fire reach sky-high, almost burning Chris in his helicopter. The entire Gopher team looked slightly singed, but most of all Izzy.

"It seems we have our fire-building winners!" Chris shouted down to us from his air-borne station. "Time to pack it up and head back to camp! But hurry! You're still racing, remember?"

Grumbling, we headed over to our canoes, now faced with a serious dilemma. "What are we going to do without paddles?" Bridgette asked, still reminding me of Courtney in her disdain.

Then, luckily, Izzy passed by us, and said, "You guys could get someone to swim behind the boats and push them. I did that once for this huge, sixty-foot yacht, the whole crew had to flutter kick for like, eight days to get to shore, and like, four of us got eaten by sharks, but I didn't." The she started laughing, saying through her laughter, "Not me, but it was really insane. Okay, later!" She waved, and LeShawna stuck her oar in the water and pushed forward rapidly, knocking Izzy over.

Geoff pointed to Izzy with an enlightened smile. "That might work!" He said hopefully.

"We need someone big enough to push all of the canoes back." Bridgette said, holding up a finger. She turned to DJ, and I saw Geoff's face fall. "DJ, you're the only one who's strong enough."

"You can't ask him to do that, the dude can't swim!" Geoff disagreed, trying to protect DJ.

"Geoff, I know you're friends, but DJ's the only chance we've got!" Bridgette said.

Courtney jumped in. "She's right." Then she held up one of Harold's arms, and said, "Those skinny arms aren't going to cut it." I almost burst out laughing, but I contained myself. '_Keep up appearance, keep up appearance._' I chanted to myself, my inner voice encouraging me. I'm glad I had someone else on my side, even if that someone was a schizophrenia-induced side of myself.

"I'll do it." Geoff said, putting his arms on his hips.

"You can't swim with that kind of injury! You're horribly disfigured!" Bridgette said. DJ agreed, and put a hand on Bridgette's shoulder. "I can do this. I have to." He said to Geoff, who took a deep breath and put an arm around DJ's shoulder, pointing at his chest. "That is one brave man." He said, sounding like he was going to cry.

A few minutes later, we found ourselves stacked on top of all the other canoes, DJ kicking furiously towards shore. We all chanted for him, and encouraged him, but to be honest, I didn't think he needed it. After only a few minutes, we passed the Gophers, and merely minutes later, we reached shore--perhaps a little too quickly. We hit an inclined plane of some sort, and were catapulted onto shore in a mess of canoes and limbs.

"The Bass are the winners!" Chris said, and we all cheered.

* * *

After we'd gotten back from the Infirmary tent, and were all given a clean bill of health (Chris had been afraid we'd gotten hurt, and would sue after getting home), and after we'd all gone and taken a shower and changed clothes, we all sat outside on our cabin's steps. It seemed like something we did after every win, like our celebration spot or something.

Then, from out of nowhere, Trent, Gwen and LeShawna came up to us. "Hey, guys. Mind if we join you?" Trent asked.

I sat up, having previously been leaning back against my elbows. "Don't you guys have the Bonfire ceremony tonight?"

Trent shook his head. "Nope. Chris decided that from now on, we're having the Bonfire ceremony the day after a challenge. Said something about 'production costs' or something." He shrugged. "I don't know. But I guess from now on, we're having the ceremony day after challenges. We've got more time to vote, too."

I nodded, and they sat down. A few minutes later, Beth and Cody asked to join us, then Owen, and then Izzy. Heather and Lindsay passed by and headed into the cabin, Heather looking snobby, and Lindsay looking a little sad. She waved at everybody as she passed, but Heather glared, and she stopped. Everybody watched as they progressed, and as they entered the cabin, LeShawna said, "Poor Lindsay."

We all agreed.

* * *

Time passed and it grew later and darker. I had to go to the bathroom. As I stood up, so did Courtney. Everybody looked from on of our faces to the other, but I was watching her like a hawk. "Washroom?"

She sighed, and said, "Yep."

I smirked, and waved my arms towards the washrooms. "After you."

I followed her to the bathrooms, and just barely, I heard one of the guys ask, "You think he likes her?" One of the girls then asked, "Better question. You think she likes him?"

Judging by the blush on Courtney's face, I assumed she heard it too. However, both of us ignored it like it hadn't happened.

After we both went, we were washing our hands, and Courtney said, "Well, the good news is that they don't seem afraid of you anymore." I nodded, agreeing. I didn't realize exactly when it had happened, but the rest of my team seemed to be a little more trusting of me. They weren't giving me funny looks anymore, at least. I wouldn't tell her, but that fact made me glad. Even though I'd tried not to, some of my teammates had really grown on me, particularly Courtney. But I wouldn't tell her.

Not yet.

* * *

That night, I'd gone to bed before everybody else, as was normal for me. But when I finally crawled into bed, I wasn't tired, or awake. I went into a trance for awhile, until I did actually fall asleep, wondering if I was growing on Courtney, or if she was just being nice to me so I wouldn't vote her off. That's what worried me about her. She seemed like she could be vicious if she had to, and that had me wondering. Was it possible for her to actually like people, or was she entirely heartless?

On this note, I fell asleep, anticipating and dreading whatever was coming. Because something was definitely coming. Something was always coming.


	16. In Which Duncan Sort of Confesses

**A/N:** Hey, guys. This chapter is 'ehh' with me. I don't particularly like it, but I don't dislike it. It's not a favorite. Really, it's just meant as filler. I can't wait for the next chapter, and NOW I GET TO START WRITING IT!! ^-^  
I'm excited.

Anyways, I'm going to take this time to say:  
Readers: Ya'll are my life, yo.  
Reviewers: Ya'll are my computer, yo. You make life better for everybody.

Please excuse me. That was my wannabe gangster side coming out.

That being said, I have one more thing to say. This chapter is mildly short. I'm sorry. I couldn't think of much that would make this chapter longer. xP

So, without any further ado, enjoy.

* * *

When I woke up, the first thing I did was put on my clothes. I didn't bother with a shower. I didn't bother going to the bathroom. I didn't bother checking my watch to see what time it was. I needed a walk. I needed to move. I needed to put some distance between me and Courtney, immediately, before I went over to her side of the cabin and said or did something I'd regret.

That's what I hated about dreaming. They were always so much better than reality. They were always so much **hotter** than reality.

I grabbed my mP3 player, haphazardly threw my headphones around my neck, and ran towards the forest, quickly, not looking around me, barely aware that I'd forgotten shoes and that I was getting my socks filthy. But that didn't matter.

My body desperately wanted me to go back, tell Courtney how I felt about her, and force her to kiss me. Maybe do more. That dream I'd had... It would have been the death of me (or at least, the loss of any specific male features I had) if I'd acted on it, if I hadn't moved fast before feelings got to me and gotten out of there.

I would have, too. That's how I'd gotten into every other stupid situation I'd ever been in. Whether anger, or pleasure, or drunkenness. All those stupid feelings have gotten me into serious trouble in the past. But if I was to be a better person, I'd have to stop that. I had to stop acting on my feelings. I had to stop being so impulsive. I had to start being more like Courtney, and thinking about things before talking or acting.

When the urgency lessened and my stomach stopped doing flip-flops, I went back to camp for shoes and a quick bite to eat before I rushed back into the forest again. The urgency was less than it was that morning, but seeing her didn't help any, and I didn't want any relapses.

It wasn't even as if the dream had been particularly appealing, or if she'd done anything particularly bad in it. But weeks of self-denial eventually got to be too much, and at some point, I wouldn't be able to stand it anymore. She would have to admit she liked me, soon, or else I'd do something really drastic and stupid, purely on accident. Like kiss her. Or feel her up. Maybe even worse. **Probably** even worse. And I didn't want to do that.

'_You'll have to be more careful, man._' The inner voice said. I was glad he was here. He hadn't been around much lately, and he was a useful tool in getting by on this island in one piece. '_Stop thinking about her before you go to bed. Start thinking of things you don't like. Like Juvie. And old people. And homework. That's not appealing at all._' He told me. I nodded, sitting in my favorite tree, blasting music like always and trying to ignore everything that wasn't going on in my head.

* * *

I spent most of the day in a trance, trying to block out thoughts of Courtney and thoughts of my dreams and thoughts of my music. For a couple of hours, I sat in that tree and forgot everything. I couldn't remember what I was thinking about, but for at least two hours, I wasn't thinking of anything incriminating or embarrassing. It was lucky on my part that I was good at blocking out things I didn't want to think about.

And just as I was sure I was about to make a breakthrough, or have an epiphany that would prevent me from dreaming Courtney in all sorts of very appealing situations, she showed up. It had been an annoying knack before, but at this point, it was just getting old. She had to stop walking in the woods when I was. She had to stop being where I was when her being where I was would be the worst possible thing for us.

But of course, those feelings were only half-hearted. The part of me that wasn't annoyed by her presence was overjoyed. She knew where I would be, so she purposely started walking towards me. She knew that if she passed me, I would talk to her. And she was alone, which meant she didn't want anyone else around.

Oh, yea. She liked me. It was so obvious, to everyone except her. She could keep denying it all she wanted. She liked me, and she would come to grips with it, soon. I smirked, and watched her pass. I was determined not to say anything. I wouldn't say a word. I was going to be completely silent, and—

"Princess! What a surprise, seeing you here!" I called down to her, smirking. My inner voice face-palmed itself. '_What was all that earlier about self-discipline?_' It asked me flatly. I scoffed at it. '_Please! She came here on purpose! She **wants** me to talk to her._'

She looked up at me from the path with an eyebrow raised. "What are you doing here?" I chuckled. Like she didn't already know!

"I come here all the time. The better question is what are **you** doing here?" I asked, sitting with my legs over the edge of the tree branch. I had a feeling today would be a 'say something stupid and get her mad at me' sort of day.

"I'm taking a walk." She said, motioning the pathway before her, as if I were supposed to believe that that was her sole reason for coming down this way.

"Oh, good." I jumped down from the tree branch, landing gracefully on my feet, crouched down. I stood up carefully, and brushed dust that wasn't there off my shirt. "I'm coming with you." Really, I'd wanted to take a walk anyways. I'd been sitting around for far too long anyway, my legs were getting restless. My inner voice wasn't buying it, and kept scolding me under his breath inside my head. I tried to ignore him.

'_You know, it's cute to watch you make excuses to yourself._' The inner voice yelled ruthlessly. I rolled my eyes, thinking '_Yea, whatever,_' and walked towards Courtney, who turned and continued to walk forward. I walked by her side, and for a while, it was pretty nice. We kept ourselves to ourselves, and neither of us said anything. But it wouldn't last. It never did. That's what I liked about her. Maybe she liked that about me, too, but I didn't know for sure.

While I was in her presence, my dream didn't bother me as bad. It didn't make much sense (or any at all), but her being physically present made everything in my dream less real. It really helped, a lot, because if the dream was bothering me worse than before, I wasn't sure how long I would have lasted with her right next to me, and us being alone. It wouldn't have ended well for either of us, and that was something I would bet on.

* * *

She broke the silence first, after ten minutes. "Why do you always sit in that tree? Like, every time I come down here, you're always sitting in the same tree." She asked curiously.

I raised my eyebrow, gave her a weird look, and shrugged. "I don't know. It's easy to climb?" Then I smirked as something occurred to me. "You know, you must have been paying close attention to notice that, because I didn't." My inner voice (who had previously been grumbling angrily in the back of my head) stopped grumbling, and paid attention, smirking with me.

Courtney went pink, and said, "I didn't really notice on purpose. You sort of stand out, and you tagged that tree. It's kind of obvious." She tried to make excuses. I wasn't falling for it. Instead, I just kept smirking, and put my arms behind my head.

"Sure, sure, Princess." I said, not looking at her. I was smirking. She so liked me. There was no other explanation. The one she'd given me was way too weak to be true. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She glared at me.

"Why is it that you can ruin any nice moment, Duncan? We were just fine until you said that." She said, stopping to put her hands on her hips. I smiled. It wasn't my fault. If she'd just come to terms with the fact that she liked me, we wouldn't even be here right now. But who was I to egg her on? No, I would let her figure it out on her own.

I shrugged, and got closer to her. "You bring out the worst in me." I said honestly, smirking, and looking her straight in the eye. Then I frowned. "But no changing the subject. You've been paying way too much attention to me lately. Why?" Then I smirked again. "I thought you hated me?"

She looked flustered for a second, stuttered, then tried to play it off like it was nothing by saying, "I thought **you** hated **me**?"

I shrugged. "Did I ever say I hated you?" I asked, stepping closer. I honestly couldn't remember ever telling her something like that. I didn't even know how she would assume something like that. Sure, I'd had my moments of standoffishness, but that was more for her benefit than mine. She really shouldn't get tangled up with me, that would be bad for her. But it was a little too late for that now, and those moments of standoffishness had been wasted.

She bit her lip. Her argument had fallen through. She realized that she was wrong, and then frowned. Then did that weird growl thing she did when she was angry. "Duncan, you are the most aggravating person I've ever met." She said, looking me straight in the eye, and getting right in my face.

So I got right back in her face. Smirked. Said "Thank you." And gave her a smile that looked sincere but wasn't. Then she realized how close we were, blushed, and backed off.

"You can't even obey the rules of personal space, Duncan? Jeez..." She muttered, turning away from me.

"Oh, don't say you didn't like it." I smirked, putting my weight on one foot and crossing my arms.

This made her turn back around and get closer again. Really, she'd violated my personal space just as much as I'd violated hers. We were both to blame. But like always, she blamed it on me to make her feel better. This didn't hurt me. It just made me laugh. But she scowled. "Why do you always insinuate that I like you? Sometimes, Duncan, I get the feeling that you like me. I mean, you do spend enough time irritating me." She frowned, and crossed her arms.

I raised an eyebrow, put my arms behind my head, and walked forward. I didn't say anything. I would neither prove nor disprove her theory. I'd let her figure it out for herself. But even though my silence should have been a good answer for her, as I walked away from her, I heard her shout, "Oh my God, you **do**?!"

I turned back, arms still behind my head, and shouted back, "I don't know! We'll let you decide!" I saw her face go red, and she turned around and walked back towards camp. I smirked.

'_Well, the cat's in the cradle now._' I thought, excited and just a little nervous. What would she do with this information now? Would she go and tell everybody, or would she keep it to herself? Would she avoid me, or would she go around and pretend it never happened? Would she finally accept that she liked me, or would this just induce her to deny it even more? I didn't know Courtney well enough to decide on how she would react. That's something I liked about her. She was always surprising me.

* * *

A little later, I found myself starving. I'd skipped breakfast, and it was nearing lunchtime. So I headed back to camp, and found Geoff and DJ on their way towards the Main Lodge. They saw me, and waved. I waved back. When I caught up to them, Geoff said, "Hey, dude, I saw Courtney a few minutes ago. She looked kinda flustered. Does this have anything to do with you?"

I nodded. "Yep. I sort of confessed to her."

"Sort of?" DJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded again. "I insinuated that I liked her, and she asked me if I did, and I told her that she could decide that for herself." I shrugged. "So now, I wait. I don't even have a theory as to what she's going to do."

DJ shrugged. "I dunno, man. Looks like you'll just have to wait and see."

I nodded, and we entered the Main Lodge. I noticed that Courtney wasn't there. I wondered, a little anxiously, where she was and what she was doing.

Actually, to say I was a little anxious was an understatement.

* * *

It was only made worse when she didn't come into the Lodge for lunch at all. I looked around for her, checking the girl's side of the cabin, the washrooms, the beach, the arts and crafts tent. But I couldn't find her. I didn't have any idea where she was.

When I gave up my search, it was time for dinner. When I entered the Main Lodge, she was sitting at a table, already with her food. Her back was to me, so I went in the line, got my food, and sat at the other end of the table, on the opposite side from her. She through me a sideways look, and I saw that she was confused, and (I might have been imagining it) a little worried. I just smiled and waved at her, and she blushed, and looked back at her plate.

'_Tomorrow, she's going to act like none of it happened._' The inner voice said. I raised an eyebrow.

'_How do you know?_' I asked him. I pictured the inner voice looking just like me, only with big, nerdy glasses, and then I pictured me standing in front of him, scowling, with my arms crossed. I wasn't angry. That's just how I pictured the two of us. '_I thought we don't know Courtney well enough._'

The inner voice (a little insulted by my imagination) said, '_**You** don't. I'm your logic, remember? I look at all of the things you don't._' Then he sighed, and let go of the anger. '_Because, as long as you act like it didn't happen, she will. You have to act like none of it happened. Go and sit in front of her. Tell her it's because you were lonely on the other side of the table, but be sarcastic about it. Sitting far away from her'll just make it obvious. What you want to do is make it an iffy sort of thing. You want to make her confused. If you act like it didn't happen, she'll be confused, and then, when she figures it out, she'll have to confess._'

I picked up my tray and did as the inner voice said. I told her what it told me to tell her, and she blushed. Then I sat down. She stared determinedly at her plate, not looking at me, not looking at anybody. Geoff and DJ watched us, and when Bridgette sat next to Geoff, Geoff filled her in. But I wasn't paying much attention to them. I was too busy trying to think of something to say that would really piss her off, so that she would act like herself again. Because the inner voice's plan was, like always, brilliant.

But, strangely, I couldn't think of anything, and the inner voice wasn't talking. I was a little concerned about this. Normally, I was a pro at saying things that made her mad. But I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing at all came to mind. No innuendos, no stupid accusations, nothing. So, instead of acting like nothing had happened, I only made it worse.

When I dumped my tray, I told the guys that I was going to bed. I didn't look at Courtney. I didn't say anything to her. I only made the situation worse. But when I got back to my cabin, I half wondered if I'd made the situation worse, or if I'd made it better.

* * *

**A/N:** Woo!! Next chaptah!!!  
So essited I is. :3


	17. Paintball Deer Hunter

**A/N:** Hey, guys. Melancolie here with chapter seventeen: Paintball Deer Hunter! :)  
I gotta say, I'm proud of this one. Not because it's particularly great or anything, but because I managed to get it out much quicker than I'd expected.

Like with last chapter, or the second-to-last chapter, I had some... difficulties... since my last update. Not writers block or anything. Just... personal problems. I hadn't expected to even be able to write for... another while, at least. But I had a moment of, uh... let's call it clarity, and I managed to get this part done. :)

After editing, and rereading, and fixing and tweaking and taking the utmost care to carefully construct, deconstruct and reconstruct, here you are. :)

But first things first:  
Readers: I love you like I love my mother. You are essential. You are a part of me.  
Reviewers: I love you like I love my siblings. I'd do anything for you (for example, write my stories, even through my tough times). I mean, one-hundred eighty reviews?! That's just ridikerous! :P

**Countdown to Basic Straining:** Six chapters!

One last thing. I apologize profusely, from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know when I'll have the next chapter out. My problem strikes randomly, without warning, and can last for days, or for weeks. So just hold tight. I'm not giving up on the story quite yet. :)

So, without further grievances from me, enjoy: Paintball Deer Hunter!

* * *

I didn't know where I was. Who was around me. What I was doing here. But it was cold, and it was dark, and I was scared. I couldn't remember ever wanting to see my parents before. Not when I broke my leg, not when I went through my first court trial, not even after my first week in Juvie. But I wanted to see them now. Now that it was too late, and all I had was a memory of them.

I heard something near the door of my all-too-chrome cell. As the lights in my cell were too bright, and reflected off the shiny chrome painfully, I couldn't see, and the entire place reeked of formaldehyde and bleach, so I couldn't even smell. Two of them (or maybe more) were talking in a language I didn't understand, surely plotting how they were going to torture me before they killed me, all in the name of their disgusting 'science.' I figured that this was what a lab rat must feel like, and vowed to never become a scientist. They opened my door and grabbed me by the arms, dragging me somewhere that I knew would be bad for me. I fought weakly against their strong hold, but I was hungry and tired, and couldn't fight them off.

I wasn't sure exactly where we were right now, or if we were even still on Earth, but I had to escape. I had to use my logic, my intelligence, and all of my cunning to get out. I could find an escape pod or something, and set a course back for home. The island, the money, the challengese; they were the last things on my mind. All I wanted now was to get home and see my parents and my brothers, and tell them I loved them and that I was so glad to be home and safe and alive. I'd have to apologize, and I'm sure they would think I was crazy, but just to see their faces, and to try to make amends. In the face of death, I realized that this was exactly what I'd always wanted--to be on good, loving terms with my family.

When one of them dropped their hold on me to grab its pass key for the next door, I made a snap decision, and kicked the one holding me where I was sure it's stomach was, and ran in the other direction. I didn't know where I was going, and I was positive there wouldn't be a map telling me which way to go, but I had to run. Even if it was a futile effort. Even if I'd be punished horribly for it. I'd go down fighting, to show them that humans were a stubborn species that just couldn't be messed with.

I turned a corner, and saw two more of them with another human. Knowing that this person was just as scared as I was, alone, and desperate for his parents, I kicked the other two of them in their stomach-regions, and grabbed the other human. I didn't know who it was, but I grabbed his hand, and we ran away, fast.

We turned another few corners and found a hiding spot to rest, while we heard an alarm siren going off above our heads. They realized we were missing, now. We'd have to take extra precautions to not be seen. I was tired from all that running, and it didn't help that I'd been scared to begin with.

Then, I heard a whirring sound and shot straight up in my bed. "Oh! Hit the deck!" Then I jumped onto the floor, the after-effects of the dream scaring the daylights out of me. I stood, shaking, looking for a place to hide from them. "They're coming, man! They found us!" I jumped under the nearest bunk, and held my head under my arms.

DJ jumped down from his top bunk (he'd finally gotten over his fear of the top bunk, and had asked to switch with Geoff a couple days ago, probably the very night I'd slept in the woods). He bent down on his knees and looked at me under the bed. "Duncan, man, are you trippin' or something? You're acting crazy."

I stared at him for a minute, paralyzed, then took a deep breath, and climbed out from under the bed. "Sorry, dude. I just had a weird dream. Freaked me out. I don't want to talk about it." I said, then grabbed my clothes and got dressed. I wasn't worried about taking a shower this morning. It was a challenge day, and challenge days, I learned, normally warranted a shower afterwards, not beforehand. I was secretly glad that nobody brought up my dream again. That was horribly embarrassing, and I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

Just as I finished dressing, I heard Chris shout over a microphone, "I hope you're ready for the most challenging challenge yet! Breakfast in three minutes at the campfire pit!" I scowled. Three minutes? Now he was just being a jerk. Three minutes was hardly enough time to finish getting dressed, fix my Mohawk and pee.

"Ugh." I groaned, deciding that my hair had kept well enough and that I could just hold it during the challenge. "You guys ready to go?" I asked. We were all dressed, and they all nodded, so we walked down to the campfire pit, and found Chris already standing there, looking as excited as he always did on challenge days. I stood just in front of a tree stump. I didn't want to sit down. I was comfortable standing, especially since I'd slept curled up all night. Plus, I wanted to see if Courtney would sit next to me, just to see if things were back to normal.

* * *

She did. She didn't say anything, or look at me, but she sat down right behind me, and looked right at Chris, purposely not looking at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but then Christ started talking. "Are you ready for today's** extreme, max-impact challenge**?!"

"**We are ready**!" Owen yelled back, just as enthused as Chris was. At times, I wished I had Owen's enthusiasm for life in general. The guy just seemed so happy all the time. I was a little bit jealous. It would be nice to live like Owen for a day. It would be difficult, but it would be nice.

Grabbing a can of beans and cocking his arm back, Chris yelled, "Incoming!" And threw the can at Gwen. Just as it was about to hit her in the face, Trent caught it. I was glad that things were working out for the two of them. Trent was a good guy, and Gwen seemed right for him. They made a good couple.

Carrying a box full of beans, Chris threw a can to each camper and said, "This is breakfast." Once they were all distributed, Heather frowned.

"No, breakfast is crepes, croissants, even Chef's crappy burnt eggs." She complained. I didn't like Heather. She complained way too much, over the stupidest things. '_I hope the Gophers vote her off soon._' I thought. The inner voice agreed with me, feeling strangely uneasy.

"Beans, beans, they're good for your heart, the more you eat the more you—" Owen sang, until he was interrupted by a can of beans to the head. He teetered on his feet for a second, then fell onto his back.

"Today's challenge is about survival." Chris carried on, as if none of that had happened. The he grinned largely. "We're going hunting." He finished, brandishing a paintball gun.

I grinned. Now **this** was the challenge I was waiting for! "Now that's more like it!" I said, smirking. Finally, a challenge I could get behind!

Harold approached Chris and looked at the green gun for a second. "Isn't that a paintball gun?" He asked, pointed at it. Chris gave him an affirmative answer, then pointed the gun at Harold and shot him with blue paint.

"So, we won't be killing anything?" Bridgette asked, looking worried. When Chris told her we weren't, Bridgette looked relieved.

"Negatory. This is the first ever paintball deer hunt!" He smiled, and said, "I'll announce the teams once we get into the woods, so... finish brekkie." Just as he finished the sentence, Owen belched.

"Got any more?" He asked, bright eyed, looking like a large puppy.

* * *

After we'd finished eating, we followed Chris into the woods where a large board was standing up, with seven paintball guns on it, and a small box in front of it. Chris stood to the front of the board and behind the box, and said, "And now for the team breakdowns." He said, and grabbed the three green paintball guns. "Killer Bass hunters are Harold, Geoff, Bridgette. Locked and loaded with Bass blue paint. And using orange paint are the Gopher hunters, LeShawna, Beth, Owen, Lindsay."

Owen cheered. "Wahoo! This is awesome, man!"

"You also get these stylin' glasses, and wicked camo caps." He said, putting them on as a model. Then he said, "The rest of you... are now deer." It was then that I realized I wasn't a hunter, and I scowled. There was** no** way I was going to walk around the woods getting shot at. No chance. Chris, who had been digging around in the box, drew back to full height and said, "Here are your antlers, noses, and little white tails." He said, shaking his hips so the tail would wag.

Heather was just as angry as I was. "Yea, right. I am **not** wearing that."

I was with her on this one. "There is **no** way I'm a deer."

Chris came up to me, shoved the antlers on my head, threw a pair of glasses on my eyes, poked a red nose over mine, and said, "Take these off, and your team is toast." Then he buckled the white tail around my waist. Owen laughed, and I looked over. He was staring at me with a strange look in his eyes.

"What are you lookin' at?" I asked, glaring.

"Oh, nothing... Bambi." He said, then pulled my tail back and let it snap on my waist. I scowled.

"You'd better be a good shot, tubby." I said, getting in his face with an angry glare. He looked nervous, so I backed off.

* * *

After that, Chris looked at his watch, and said, "Deer! Start heading into the forest. You've got a ten minute head start. Avoid the marked off areas. You know the rules. Duncan?" I looked over, as I'd started heading into the forest. "Try not to tag too many trees, alright?" He asked, pointing two fingers into his eyes, then back at me.

"Roger." I said, saluting, then ran to catch up with the other Bass deer. I couldn't help but watch Courtney's tail wag as she walked. That, plus the antlers and the nose, were pretty cute, I had to say.

While the four of us (Courtney, Sadie, DJ and I) were walking, Courtney must have been speculating on how stupid this was, because, out of nowhere she said, "At least we get a head start."

I shrugged, then DJ said, "I don't know about ya'll, but I'm outta here." Then he got down on hands and knees and—quite literally—pranced away. I stared after him with a dumbfounded expression, in shock that a human being was able to move like that.

'_What the hell **is** that guy?!_' The inner voice asked me. I shook my head and looked back to Courtney and Sadie, awe-struck. They were just as surprised as I was.

* * *

Later, Sadie decided to split from the group too. I wasn't sure why exactly, but I had a strange feeling it had something to do with me. And the creepy expressions I was sending her way. And the fact that I may have accidentally tripped her up a couple times. But I refused to admit to it, and Sadie never actually knew it was me. She could only suspect.

So that left it to just Courtney and me. I still couldn't really gauge Courtney's reaction towards what had happened yesterday. I wasn't sure if she was ignoring me on purpose, or if she just didn't have anything to say. I wanted to say something that would warrant her negative attention, but I couldn't think of anything at all. Just like yesterday, my gutter-mind wasn't functioning properly. For the first time, I didn't know what to do.

My inner voice (still angry at me for the 'nerdy glasses' comment) sighed heavily. '_Tell her you're going to go another way, and just as you're about to disappear, make a comment on her tail._' He said flatly. I grinned. '_Thanks, man. And just so you know, the 'big nerdy glasses' thing is just saying that you're smarter than me._' I told him.

'_Oh, I know. I appreciate the sentiment. But that doesn't make it any better. I mean, come on! Big nerdy glasses?_' He asked me, sounding a little childish. I smiled apologetically, but quickly wiped it off my face when I realized that I was responding physically to the voice in my head.

"Well, Courtney, looks like it's just you and me." I said, putting my arms behind my head. Then I smirked. "So, I'm gonna take off now."

She nodded. "Okay. See you later." She said, very obviously fighting to keep a blush off her face. I smirked, and walked towards the trees. I waited a few minutes for her to walk forward, and to look around her before I stopped, turned to face her, and smirked.

"Oh, and by the way," I started. She turned around and looked at me with wide eyes, not expecting me to say anything. I smiled sincerely for a second, before smirking and driving the final nail in the coffin. "Cute tail." Then I winked, and didn't stay to watch her face go red and contort with anger.

As I walked away from the scene, I was holding back chuckles, and when I got far enough, I stopped, leaned against a tree, and burst out into raucous laughter, and the inner voice laughed right along with me.

'_High five for that one, dude._' He said, and I mentally gave him a high five. His glasses fell off, and I accidentally stepped on them. He just grinned and shook his head at me. '_Duncan, I think we're crazy._'

'_Nonsense._' I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at myself. '_What would make you think that?_'

* * *

I walked for a long time on my own. I ran into DJ once, and ran into Sadie. I ran into Beth, who looked mad, so I hid. I came across Heather, sitting on a rock by herself, not caring about the game at all. And I ran into Bridgette, Geoff and Harold, who all looked like they were having a good time. I was of a mind to steal Harold's gear and leave him mine, but then I figured we'd get disqualified, and then I'd be the one to blame.

Eventually, I ran into a river, and decided to stop for a drink. I'd been walking for several hours, after all, and I'd been getting thirsty. Stopping by the river, I bent over, scooped some water in my hand, and drank....

Until I heard a noise. I stood up, looked around, sniffed the air, and said to myself, "Beans." I looked around, not seeing him anywhere. I knew who it was. There was only one person on the island who would have let that go so easily. So I looked up, and lo and behold, there was Owen, sitting in a tree, looking nervous. I grinned. "Nice try, Farticus! You almost had me!" I said, and before he could shoot me, I ran away behind some more trees.

* * *

I rested for a few minutes after that, up in a tree. Not my tree, but a tree. My legs had been getting tired, and I was hoping the contest would be over soon. It had reminded me of a time when my brothers and I would go to laser tag. Only this was paintball. I sighed, and climbed down from the tree. It had been a comfortable tree, very far from where I'd ever ventured before. It was a nice tree, too, very old and rustic looking, and I would have liked to find it again. So I took out a can of spray paint and began to paint my stereotypical skull on the side of the tree.

Completely engrossed, I didn't hear the footsteps behind me, and wouldn't have even noticed her there if she hadn't said, "Why do you smell worse than usual?" Surprised, I turned around to see Courtney, hands on her hips, glaring at me with a glare that was devoid of actual anger.

Witty as I am, I came up with an answer quickly. "It's Owen's stink. It's following me around like my juvenile record." We stood for a minute, staring at each other in a hostile standoff that was hardly hostile. We seemed to be good at portraying emotions that weren't there. That worried me a bit, and brought up what I'd been thinking about a couple days ago, as to whether or not she was capable of actually liking me, or if she was just faking it to get by in the game.

"Well, I'm heading back. This stupid game must be almost over by now." She said, then walked towards me... which, unless I was wrong, was the opposite direction of camp.

"You're going the wrong way." I pointed out. Hey, I wasn't about to let her get lost in the middle of the woods. Sure, she was a CIT before and all, but if she were to get hurt or lost, I would've felt responsible. Not to mention worried, anxious and irritated. I decided to spare myself all that. I was getting better at being a good person.

She looked affronted. "Excuse me? I was a CIT, remember?" Yea, I remembered. She never let anybody forget it! "I have a natural sense of direction. Camp is this way." She said, pointing over my shoulder.

"No, it's that way." I corrected, pointing over her shoulder, and getting a little annoyed. She rolled her eyes at me, and I just rolled my eyes back. We started walking towards each other, eyes still pointing away from where we were going, and BAM! Our heads collided, and I heard a foreboding scraping sound. Shaking off the initial shock at having actually run into her, I tried to pull my head back...

But my deer antlers were stuck to hers. And what was worse? I had to bend over a little bit to reach her height. I could already feel the strain on my back as I tried to straighten up, only to tug on her antlers. She tugged back, and grumbled.

"Very funny! Now let me go!" She said, tugging her antlers back towards her. What, did she think I was enjoying this or something? Did she think I planned this? Ha! Yea right. I mean, I liked her, and I certainly wasn't complaining at this too-close proximity, but it was kind of uncomfortable. Not too mention, her face was too close to mine. If I'd wanted to, I could have kissed her, without her being able to move back.

"Hey, Princess, this isn't my idea of fun either." I said, even though it really wasn't that bad. She looked even better up close; I'd never actually been **that** close to her before. I was too afraid she'd hit me. Or she would just move away. It was easier to move out of someone's personal space when you weren't attached by the fake deer antlers.

She sighed angrily. "Great, Duncan." She said, glaring at me as if it were my fault. I just glared back, even though I was hardly angry at her. I couldn't even be sure if I actually hated this arrangement. It was a great opportunity. "Now what?!" she yelled, right in my ear. Not gonna lie, it kind of hurt.

It took me a split second to think of something we could do while we were that close. "You wanna make out?" I offered, smiling. She should have been flattered. I wouldn't have offered something that tame to anybody else. As it were, her face went completely blank for a second before she started blushing.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." She said, trying to sound angry. She only managed to sound nervous. '_Push the subject, Duncan!_' Inner voice whispered, as if she could have heard him. '_Don't drop it!_'

So I smirked. "Why? Why even deny it anymore? You know you want to." I said, looking straight in her eyes. She looked confused. And nervous. Like she couldn't tell if I was wrong or right. '_It's working._' The inner voice said tensely. '_Come on... come on...!_'

But she just shook her head (which ended up shaking mine, too). "No. I don't want to." Then she groaned. "You can't make any unpleasant situation more bearable for anybody, can you?" She asked. But she didn't sound angry, or irritated. Call me crazy (the inner voice snorted), but she sounded sort of defeated. Like she'd been fighting for the answer yes, but couldn't justify it.

I shrugged. "Your loss." Also, my loss. Also, the world's loss. But I didn't say that, because she would have found me creepy.

She sighed. "So, what do you propose we do?" She asked me. I shrugged. "Come on. You can't think of anything? You're supposed to be the juvenile delinquent, quick on his feet, and cunning. You can't think of a single thing?"

I just smiled. "Aw, that was a nice compliment, Princess." She just rolled her eyes. "The only thing I can think for us to do would be to try to walk back to camp like this. Someone else can help us out." I suggested. She bit her lip, and nodded (which made me nod, too).

"Alright. Let's go then." She said, and started walking towards me. I didn't move.

"Courtney, camp is that way." I said, pointing towards her, and trying to walk that way. She wouldn't move. Our antlers, still stuck, just shifted on top of our heads. She just shook her head furiously (which shook my head furiously). "And could you stop moving your head so much?!" I added, getting a headache.

She stopped. "Oops. Sorry." She apologized. "But no. Camp is that way." She said, trying to walk towards me again, but her antlers didn't really allow her to get much closer.

I sighed, and put a palm to my head. This could take a while.

* * *

We ended up going her way. Not because I gave in or anything, but because we'd struck a deal. If we didn't find camp going her way, she had to stop bringing up the fact that she was a CIT. If we did find camp going her way, I wouldn't be allowed to tag anything anymore. ...Actually, yea. I gave in. The bet was just a way for me to give in and still retain my masculinity.

We didn't find camp going her way. In fact, we'd gone the complete opposite direction of camp, and we'd only just barely heard Chris when he said, over the microphone, "Attention human wildlife and hunters! Please report back to camp! It's time to show your hides and tally up the scores!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Still think we're going the right way?" I asked, smirking. She just glared at me, and pushily walked toward me. I just turned so that instead of me walking backwards, we were walking sideways. After a few minutes, I said, "You know what this means, right?" I grinned. No more bragging about being a CIT!

"Shut up." She snapped.

* * *

We were finally able to see camp. I didn't want to say 'I told you so,' even though the inner voice told me to. I figured she didn't need reminding that I was right and she was wrong. Plus, it was so juvenile, and I was trying to kick that habit.

"Hey, where are Duncan and Courtney?" we heard Harold ask just as we walked into the vicinity. Everybody looked at us, and most of them cracked smiles. Gwen even laughed.

"Oh, this is too much." She said, humor laced in every syllable.

Owen chuckled, too. "Duncan! You sly dog, you." He said suggestively. I just grinned.

"The girl can't keep her antlers off of me!" I said jokingly, and shrugged. Apparently, Courtney didn't get the joke, because the next thing I new, incredible, impossible amounts of pain were shooting through me, originating from in between my legs.

I bit my lip, and felt a tear escape from the corner of my eye. The worst part of it was, I couldn't bend over (which would have eased the pain a little bit), and said as much.

I could only just barely make out Chris saying, "Easy, Courtney. Our medical tent's really only equipped for one at a time, and Cody's pretty messed up."

Bridgette and Geoff came forward to help us, and they quickly pried our antlers apart. As they did, I fell to my knees and put my hands between my legs, still biting my lip. It helped, somehow. I was able to cheer when Chris announced that our team had won.

"You're off to a hunting camp shin-dig!" Chris announced, just as I fell over, groaning.

* * *

Later that evening, we were all sitting on the steps of our cabin, like every time we'd won a challenge. Our party for winning the challenge would be tomorrow, while the Gophers were at the Campfire Ceremony. Nobody ever said it, but we all revered this time together, because, even though Sadie and Harold were afraid of me, and even though Courtney hated me, we all sat together through it all. We didn't talk much. Just relaxed, and sort of celebrated. It was sort of symbolic, in a way. We all sat in our own spots, and avoided certain other spots where the past campers would have sat.

Even though she hadn't apologized, I'd already forgiven Courtney. Much like how I couldn't say no to her, I also couldn't stay mad at her. I was getting a little worried by how soft I'd become—I mean, fixing her violin? Letting her go first? Giving her the hot shower? I was downright whipped by a girl that I wasn't even going out with! It was pathetic. But I really wouldn't have had the exchanges between us any other way. This was how we were. The pining teenage boy and the teenage girl in denial, and until she admitted to liking me, or I stopped liking her, this was how we would be.

And she would admit it first. She'd come so close today! Just another split second in her mind, and that 'no' would have been an 'okay.' She was reaching the edge, and she wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. It was time for me to develop a strategy. What I should and shouldn't say. What I should and shouldn't do. Anything that might speed the process up, I would do, inner voice's suggestion or not.

Because we didn't know how much longer we'd have to be on the island together. Either one of us could get voted off after any challenge, and if we got sent home before she admitted to liking me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

* * *

Before going to bed, I visited the confessional for the first time in a while, as far as I could remember. I decided to film a video home for my parole officer. After the video home from my parents, I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to them. They'd see the show for themselves, they could piece together how I was doing. I figured he'd want to know about the progress I'd made. I told him about all the things I could have done or said, and all the things that I could have gotten away with that I didn't do. I even told him about Courtney. I told him about how I was crazy about her, and that she was unintentionally helping me become better. I even said that she didn't admit to liking me yet, but that I knew she did, and that I knew she would admit it soon.

After I taped a video home, I stopped the tape and then recorded my opinion of today's challenge, focusing mainly on the accident with me and Courtney. I made sure they knew how I really felt because, hey, what did I care if people knew? It wasn't wrong to like a chick for more than just sex. In fact, I was probably a better person than those guys who thought otherwise. I didn't say any of that to the camera, though.

As I went to bed that night, I thought about old 'friends' of mine. About how they looked at women, and what they thought about women. It almost sickened me to know that I used to think that way, too.

I was, I'll admit, very proud of my progress. I hadn't lied when I'd said that there was a lot I couldn't have gotten away with. '_Are you happy, Courtney?_' I thought, before yawning and turning over. '_The effort's all for you._'

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, I hyped up to it, and nothing actually happened, but believe me, something did happen. Can you tell that Courtney's starting to break?


	18. In Which There Is Much Rejoicing

**A/N:** I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'OH MY GOD, FINALLY SHE UPDATES. FOR GOD'S SAKE, COULD SHE BE ANY SLOWER?!?!?!?!??ONE?!//OI!' That's part of the reason for the name of this chapter. The other reason is... well, you'll see. :)

The truth is, I have no excuse for this taking so long. I lost internet connection for a couple weeks. That's it. But I should have finished it during that time and gotten it to you as soon as my internet came back up (which, admittedly, has only been a day and a half, but still. That should have been my first priority), because I've gotten several messages from readers asking when I'd update. I apologize, profusely, from the bottom of my heart, and to those loyal readers that are still with me after that incredibly long wait, I commend your patience and apologize once more.

Now that that's finished, I've got a few things to say regarding this chapter. I mention Todd Kauffman and Mark Thornton III in this chapter, and write them in as the show's producers. IN ACTUALITY, they are the show's directors. Now I know that there HAS to be at least one incredibly huge anime fan that reads my stories. Tell me if you recognize some names. :P

I mention Chucks several times throughout the chapter. Other people refer to them as Converse. They're a kind of shoe (the kind that Duncan wear) if you still have no idea what I'm talking about. :)

There's mention of a history question... Don't even regard it. I'm so awful with history, I'm not even sure if what I asked was a legit question.

One more thing about this chapter. Sex is mentioned, but **only** in passing (in the context that one character is accused of asking another character for it. It's a false accusation). And one character calls another character a skank. But I don't see how that would be a problem.

That being said, there's only one last thing to do:  
**COUNTDOWN TO BASIC STRAINING:** 5 chapters!

Alright. Now there's nothing more to say except:  
Enjoy (at long last) chapter eighteen! :)

* * *

The second I woke up the next morning, I was in the mood to go swimming. I climbed off of the top bunk soundlessly, dug around in by bag for my swim shorts and grabbed my towel. I quickly and quietly changed before one of the guys woke up, and, keeping my socks removed, I put my red Chucks back on, grabbed my towel, and carefully shut the door behind me on my way out.

Even though it was still early, the sun was already high in the sky and very hot. It only strengthened my resolve to go for a swim. Once I was out of the hearing range of the people in the cabins, I let out a shout and ran towards the docks. I abandoned my towel near the shore and, Chucks and all, dove into the water.

I felt really good under the water. It was pleasantly cool, unlike the showers that were always too cold. I kept myself under the water for about thirty seconds, during which I felt astoundingly relaxed at the light ebb and flow of the water around me. There was something to be said about the peacefulness of calm water. They had to turn it into a sort of therapy for unstable people. Calm water was so predictable; it had to help somehow.

When I resurfaced, I felt the sun beat down on me, and I laughed a calm sort of laugh at how contrasted the hot sun felt against the cool water. I swam over to the docks and lifted myself out of the water, and finally took off my shoes. They'd be a pain to put back on later, but I figured they'd dry off well enough if I left them out in the sun. Then I stood up and dove back in.

This time, under the water, I opened my eyes to look around me. At first, the water hurt my eyes a little bit, but as I grew adjusted, I grew intrigued. I saw fish swim away from me, and I saw some garbage floating around effortlessly, drifting and dragged by the tide. Then I ran out of breath, and resurfaced.

Once on the surface, I got on my back and floated for a while. The sun felt less hot, and I felt my body relax. I loved the days off, and was glad that there were more days off than there were challenges. I wasn't sure how I'd handle the stress if I didn't have time to unwind in between. I knew for sure that the others wouldn't be able to handle it, either. I amused myself for a minute just imagining how Heather or Courtney would react to constant stress.

Just as I began to think about the others, I heard a noise on the shore, and fell back into treading position. I scanned the shore and saw, to my immediate delight, Courtney, with a towel slung over her shoulder and dressed in shorts and a tank-top, carrying a book. She noticed my towel first, then my Chucks, then me, floating on my back; I'd quickly moved back into that position before she could notice that I'd noticed her. I could just barely hear her sigh over the sound of the waves, but I pretended not to notice. If she wanted my attention, she'd have to say something, because I didn't let on at all that I'd noticed her.

And she did. "God, Duncan, why is it that you're **everywhere**, **all** the time?" She groaned. I looked up and over at her, feigning surprise.

"Princess! What a pleasant surprise!" I said, treading water. "And to what to I owe the honor?" I teased.

She just rolled her eyes. "Please, Duncan. I came here to read. If I knew **you** were here—"

"You'd've come anyways." I said before she could finish her sentence. She looked away. I assumed she was blushing.

'_Go lay down near her. Not next to her, but near her._' The inner voice commanded. I grinned. I could only imagine her reaction when she realized that I'd moved closer. And she couldn't even accuse me of it, because any accusations would end up being true, and we both knew it. '_We're at a complete advantage with her knowing._' The inner voice said. '_She can't make us angry with false accusations now._'

I got out of the water, grabbed my Chucks, then walked off the dock to grab my towel. Lying on her stomach with her book in hand, she gave me a sideways look, curious as to what I was doing. For a few seconds, I just stood in the sun, wrapped up in my towel, drying off. Then I moved closer to her (but not so close that it appeared completely intentional), placed my towel flat on the ground, and laid down on my back.

I felt her eyes on me before I saw them, but when I looked over, I was amused to see her glaring. I gave her a look that asked, 'May I help you?' She just scowled.

"Do you have to ruin every peaceful moment for me?" She asked angrily. I looked offended, though I suppose it would be unnecessary to say that I wasn't at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, sounding innocent. "I don't know how my sitting here quietly is ruining anything at all. Unless..." I sat up, crossed my legs and looked at her piercingly. "Unless you're distracted by me. Which you are, or so it seems, considering you can't even focus on your book now." I accused. I was being snippy today, but at least it was justly so. It was about time she came off her high horse and admitted it. I wasn't that bad of a guy.

She just blushed, and looked back at her book. Still sitting up, I watched her for a while, and noticed her face get redder and redder. Not to mention, she hadn't turned the page for nearly five minutes, and I pointed that out to her. "You know, you've been sitting there for five minutes, and you haven't turned the page once." I said.

She just flushed deeper red, and said, "Hard to read when someone's watching you. It's kind of creepy."

I laughed a little bit. Creepy was a new one. But I supposed it sort of fit; the truth of the matter was, I **wasn't** leaving her alone. But at least this time, I could have said the same to her. She could have been here for a while and I'd have pretended not to notice; she could have gotten away with being here without me knowing. However, I stood up, and said, "Alright, alright, Princess. You win. I'll leave you alone." I walked back towards the dock, and looking out of the corner of my eye to see if she was watching (she was, but pretending not to), I backed up, then ran towards the edge, and dove in.

* * *

I spent another hour swimming before she finally got up and left. When I saw her move, I'd half expected her to join me. The other half wished she would join me. I almost called after her, but, for the sake of my pride, was able to keep silent. Shortly after she left, I got bored, and decided to go take a shower before breakfast.

When I reached the cabin, I found Geoff already awake and changing. He looked up at me and grinned. I raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled. "I'm going for a walk with Bridgette before breakfast." He said. With the expression on his face and the width of his eyes, if he'd had a tail, it would be wagging at top speed.

I nodded, and said, "Awesome, man. You gonna ask her out?"

He shrugged, still wearing that too-huge, stupid grin. "If the situation calls for it, I might." He said. Then he stood up. "Dude, I'm... There are no words for how..." He was practically shaking, and in reality, he was bouncing lightly on one foot. I smirked.

"Relax, man. You might explode." I joked. He stopped bouncing, and smiled apologetically. Then I looked at my watch (it was still only eight fifteen). "What time are you going?"

Geoff looked at his watch. "As soon as Bridgette comes to get me. She had to get ready or something." He shrugged.

I laughed. "Meaning you'll probably still be here through lunch."

Geoff laughed too. In my opinion, girls took too long to get ready to go somewhere. Personally, I wasn't too worried about how a girl looked; if I asked a girl out, like, for a date, it was because I liked her personality, not because she was hot or looked good with make-up. Or at least, she wasn't ugly. I'm superficial enough to say that if my soul-mate were Swamp-Thing ugly, I'd go without. But for the most part, I don't judge by appearances.

And as if I'd cued her, there was a knock on the cabin door, and Geoff answered it. As predicted, it was Bridgette. "Ready to go?" She asked brightly. Geoff nodded. I almost scoffed. A girl asking a guy if he's ready to leave is like... well, like a girl asking a guy if he's ready to leave. Completely pointless. Geoff gave me a quick wave goodbye, and then they were both gone. I stood by the door and watched them walk towards the woods.

I grabbed a towel and a clean change of clothes, and headed to the showers, now in lower spirits than I had been earlier. I was kind of jealous of Geoff. Bridgette liked him back from the start; I had to work to get Courtney to like me, and she still hasn't even admitted it. It wasn't fair that Geoff, who would lose his head if it wasn't attached, managed to get a girl to like him so easily when I, who had more common sense and wit than most people on the island, had to work so hard. But I guess that was how the world worked. Nothing gets you nothing.

Then I frowned, because by that logic, Geoff and Bridgette's relationship would be far from perfect. I half-wondered how long it would take for them to break up. And then I immediately scowled. What was I thinking? How could I think that about a teammate? A friend! I leaned my head against the shower door before turning on the icy water.

'_Maybe our efforts aren't working._' The inner voice lamented. '_Maybe this is just who you are._' I took a deep breath and held it for as long as I could. Then I exhaled slowly, trying to rid myself of those cruel thoughts, because the inner voice had to be wrong. I'd never worked harder at anything in my life, and if I found that all my supposed progress here was just a change in behavior, and not a change in personality, I'd be depressed, not to mention very, very angry.

I turned off the shower, and dried off and got dressed. I fussed my hair, making it fall just over my eyes, not quite in the mood to put it into a Mohawk. I brushed my teeth, and cleaned my piercings of salt water and any germs that were in the water. Then I went back to the cabin, opened the door...

...And groaned in disgust. On the floor was a pair of very dirty-looking underwear. Afraid to touch it, I went back outside and grabbed a stick. When I came back inside, I picked it up to find that it was Harold's. I scowled. From what I'd been told, that wasn't the first time this had happened. For the past few days, I'd hear stories from Geoff and DJ regarding finding nasty pairs of underwear shoved under Harold's bunk. I glared at the offending piece of clothing, and formulated a plan to go about getting him to quit it. Then I grinned, and hid said piece of clothing in my bag to be put to use later tonight.

With a happy plan in mind, I decided it was about time I went to get some breakfast.

* * *

After breakfast, I went for a walk in the woods, as was my custom. It was a long walk, and I didn't really do or think about anything. I just listened to the noises I made, and listened to the noises the woods made. And when my watch started to beep signaling lunch time, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Once I'd calmed down, I did a quick 360-degree turn to make sure nobody saw me jump.

After that, I ran back towards camp. I didn't really have to run. I just felt like it. It felt like it'd been too long since I ran for fun, and that's what I considered my days off to be—purely for fun.

I was last in line for lunch, but truthfully, I wasn't worried. I wasn't even hungry. I ended up just picking at my food when Chris came in. At first, we were all a little nervous to see him. Chris' appearance never meant good news. I half expected him to produce more videos from home, and if that were the case, I would be the first to leave. Fortunately for me, that wasn't the case; he only came in to ascertain whether or not all the Gophers voted, and to make sure we Bass didn't forget about our party tonight. Like we were going to forget.

After that, he left us alone, and we all let out sighs of relief. We'd been lucky this time; he didn't have anything to say to us involved a challenge, meaning that we still had time to relax and not worry about it.

Now bored, and still not the least bit hungry, I offered my food to Owen (who was only too glad to accept it) before heading back to the cabin.

* * *

After lunch, I was still bored beyond belief. Our party didn't start until six, and it was still only one. I had nothing to do except watch everyone else go here and there to find some means of entertainment. After grabbing a stick and my knife, I sat on my cabin's porch steps and watched Heather text someone on her cell phone with Beth and Lindsay in tow while I was carving the end of the stick into a point. I watched LeShawna, Gwen and Trent head down to the beach, either to swim or just to sunbathe, I didn't know. I watched Geoff, Bridgette and DJ toss around the football, and (specifically) I watched Courtney sit against the girl's side of the cabin's porch and scribble in a notebook. She was much invested in whatever she was writing, because I'd been sitting on the porch steps for an hour, and she'd been writing almost that long.

I watched, amused, as she sat there scribbling away. Sometimes she would pause in her scribbling and reread what she'd just written. Sometimes she would cross something out, and bite her tongue. Sometimes her eyes would roll into the back of her head, obviously racking her brain for another word or sentence. Sometimes (but more rarely) should would flip between pages, rewriting what she had just written. Sometimes (even **more** rarely) I would see her glance up at me, only to blush and look back down when she saw that I'd caught her looking at me.

Finally, after what had to be an hour and a half of us just sitting there occasionally looking at each other, my curiosity got the better of me, and I had to ask. "So, what are you writing?" I asked, finally letting my gaze rest on her. I set down the stick and the knife, showing her that she had my full attention. She looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"I asked you what you were writing." I repeated. Then I elaborated. "You've been sitting here for nearly an hour and a half just writing. What are you writing?" It might have been a nosy question, and I should have told her that she didn't need to answer, but hell. I **was** curious, and if she didn't answer, well than, she didn't answer.

But she did answer. "Um... Just doing some summer homework." She shrugged. "Didn't you get any?"

I shook my head, and gave her a strange look. "What classes are you taking that you're getting summer homework?" I asked. I'd never gotten summer homework for any classes! What sort of school does that, anyways? Summer is for relaxing, not doing more schoolwork!

"Well, I'm in mostly advanced classes." She admitted, shrugging. "Most advanced classes assign summer homework." Then she glared at her paper. "I'm currently writing a paper for history, but I can't remember some of the stuff I'm supposed to be writing about."

I stood up and moved closer to her. "Do you need any help? I mean, I was never an academic wizard or anything, but when I did go to school, history was one of my better subjects. Maybe I could help you?"

She looked apprehensive. To be honest, I didn't blame her. With the amount of proper schooling I'd had, I wouldn't trust me to write an essay either. But I wasn't lying when I mentioned history; there was something about history that was always easy to me, much easier than math or science. You didn't have to memorize formulas and solve equations to understand history. But she shrugged, and said, "Alright, then. The question was 'When the British were still occupying British Columbia in western Canada after the Revolutionary War in America, list three reasons why the British and Americans almost went to war, and why the plans for war never came to fruition....'"

And just like that, we were sitting in camp working on her history report. And I was helping her. And she wasn't complaining, or insulting me. And the best part was, I knew what I was talking about... and she believed me.

It was a very calm way to spend the afternoon. For two hours, we sat in that same spot, bumping ideas back and forth. I would suggest something, and she would skim her memory to make sure I was right, and she would run something by me and I would correct her if she was wrong. By quarter after four, her essay was finished, and she was reading it back to me to make sure it was all accurate. I could have just asked her to hand it to me (I was only sitting right across from her) so that I could read it myself, but to be honest, I really enjoyed hearing her voice. When she was speaking in decibels that wouldn't give dogs a headache, she had a very pleasant voice.

Just as she'd finished reading it to me, Chris announced over the loudspeaker that we'd be having an early dinner today so that the Main Lodge could be decorated and set up for the party later, and that if we wanted to have dinner, we'd better be there by four-thirty. He also warned the Bass to eat lightly. I checked my watch. It was already approaching four-thirty, so I stood up and stretched. She did too, leaving her folder and essay on the floor.

"Thanks a ton, Duncan. I don't think I would have been able to finish it without your help." She said, stretching her arms. Now there was a sentence I would have never expected her to ever say.

However, I nodded. "No problem. Don't worry about asking if you need any more help with history." Then I gave her a small, almost smug grin. I was a history whiz, and I was proud of it, especially now.

She gave me a grateful smile, then looked at me with a confused expression. "How do you know so much about history, anyways?" She asked.

I shrugged. "History was always a lot easier to me than math or science. I mean, you don't really need to memorize formulas and crap with history, you know?" I shrugged. "It was the only class I ever really bothered trying with. Well, besides gym, anyways."

She nodded, then bent down to pick up her essay. She moved toward her cabin door, and said, "Well... thanks again."

I nodded, then said, "See you at dinner," before turning and walking towards the Main Lodge. My inner voice was almost bouncing off the walls.

'_Duncan, man, that was **perfect**. I don't think I could have recommended you do anything **better**!_' He commended me. Now that his glasses were broken, he looked a lot more like me. His hair was flat, though, just reaching his eyebrows, still completely black, and sort of messy. I used to wear it like that myself until I saw a picture online of a guy with a green Mohawk, and I figured that it might look good on me. So I grew out my hair, then cut the hair around it to be shorter, and dyed that one patch of it green. And that's how it'd been since.

Except for today. Today, I kept it down, and sort of messed around on my head to make it look like my whole head was like that. I'd kept enough of it long to almost completely cover my whole head in a thin layer, and to be honest, I sort of liked it. But I wouldn't keep it like that, or at least, not until I had enough time to grow the rest of my hair out a little bit.

Then I shook my head. I was worrying about my **hair**. Of all things to be worried about. I rolled my eyes. I really **was** getting soft!

* * *

I sat on the edge of the table at dinner today, next to DJ, who was next to Geoff. Across from Geoff, Bridgette was sitting, and next to Bridgette (across from DJ), Courtney was sitting. Over dinner, we kept looking at each other. We'd catch the other's eye for a second, then look down at our trays. Courtney would blush. I fought to keep my face from getting hot. We both missed the knowing (not to mention very smug) looks exchanged between Geoff, Bridgette and DJ. Good thing, too. I hated smug looks.

The second we were done with dinner, a bunch of people with decorations, food, and heavy-looking equipment. I raised an eyebrow. It was only the seven of us. How many decorations did a party for seven people **need**?

...According to Chris, a lot. Not only was there a DJ, complete with turntables and probably every record known to man, but there was a full food table, tables off to the side with chairs, streamers, balloons, strobe lights, and, as if those weren't enough, a disco ball. As I walked in, my jaw dropped. The lodge was completely transformed. If it weren't for the fact that it was impossible, I would have suspected they brought in a prop set.

The other campers had completely transformed, too. The guys had all fixed their hair and changed their clothes. The girls were all in party outfits and make-up (except for Bridgette, of course). As for myself, I hadn't done much. I cleaned my piercings again (not to mention changed a few of them), and fixed my hair into a Mohawk. I put on jeans and a different t-shirt, but, as I'd only brought two different pairs of shoes with me, I switched from my red Chucks that I'd jumped into the water with only earlier that day to the pair of black Chucks that I'd brought with me just in case I ruined my red ones. In these jeans and black tux, I looked a little bit more presentable.

I wasn't really sure what I was expecting from this party (with seven people there wasn't really a whole lot one could do). I knew there wouldn't be drugs or alcohol. I knew that the only "party games" there would be would be truth or dare or something to that effect. So I couldn't really explain why I was so excited about the party. That is, until—

"Oh, I forgot to mention!" Chris started. We all turned our attention to him, curious as to his explanation for the extravagance of the decorations. Because there was no way Chris would do all this just for a party for seven people. "We're having some of the producers here for the party, and some celebrities as well. So while this is your party for winning, it's technically for my benefit." He said, and grinned. Then he glared at us. "Try not to embarrass yourselves in front of some of these famous people, alright? Don't forget, you guys are famous now, too."

I was a little taken aback. "We're famous?" Geoff asked, surprised.

Chris nodded. "Be default, yes. According to our ratings, about half of Canada knows who you all are. And let's not forget that this is broadcast to other countries as well." Then he chuckled sarcastically. "Try not to let it go to your heads, alright?" Then he headed back for the door. "I'll be back after the Bonfire ceremony. Some producers might show up early, but the celebrities won't be coming for another hour or so. So enjoy yourselves all you want until then, kay?" He said, grinning at us. Then he left.

We all stood in the middle of the Main Lodge, looking at each other. If I was right, none of the others had figured out we were famous either.

"I mean..." Courtney started slowly. "I guess that makes sense. There **are** some people who were bound to know who we are... but roughly half of Canada? Not to mention America, Britain and Australia..." She trailed off.

"America, Britain and Australia?" Bridgette asked. "How do you know?"

Courtney looked at all of us in turn. "Oh, come on. You mean none of you read the contract?" She looked at all of us again, and when she was met with nothing but blank faces, she sighed. "Page four, section thirteen, clause two: 'Entry agrees to allow the show to be aired in other foreign countries outside of Canada and Canadian territory, i.e. America and all territories therein, the United Kingdom and all territories therein, and Australia and all territories therein, as well as to allow season box sets and show merchandise to be sold in said countries. All information is liable to change; entry agrees to allow the show to be aired in any country (as well as all territories legally belonging to that country) without being negotiated.'" She recited. We all stared at her.

"How do you **remember** that?!" Bridgette asked, astounded. Courtney shrugged.

"Well, it was an important contract. I remember most of it, to be honest. I also remember all the loopholes I found in it, just in case." She was met with more blank faces. Then she sighed impatiently. "Come on, guys. I'll be attending law school. Are you really that surprised?"

"No, but then again, I hope you don't find any reason to use that knowledge." Someone said from the door. Courtney jumped and looked behind her. I looked over, too, to see two men entering the door. I had no idea who they were, but I assume they knew that, because they approached us with outstretched hands.

"Hello. I'm Todd Kauffman. This is Mark Thornton III. We're the show's producers." He said, as he shook mine, and Mark shook Courtney's. They went around the group, shaking each of our hands in turn. Once he'd gotten his fill, he turned to Courtney and said, "I'm glad to see you read through the fine print. However, I trust you read the clause regarding lawsuits against the show, the show's directors, producers, photographers, etc.?"

Courtney nodded. "Yes I have. However, in listing the suits we aren't allowed to file, you left a broad range of suits we **are** allowed to file. And now that the contract is signed by both parties, according to Section Twenty-Two, clause four, the contract can neither be altered nor terminated until after the entry has been voted off the show." She smiled. "But don't worry. I don't intend to sue unless the need arises."

Todd looked furious for about a split second, then his face broke into a grin, and he laughed, and turned to Mark. "Oh, she is charming. I would love to introduce her to our lawyers. Don't you agree?" He turned to Mark, who nodded.

I was still in awe. Her confidence and poise was... well, not to sound like a teenage boy or anything (hardy har har), but it was _hot_. I felt almost nauseous. That was how badly I wanted her to be mine. To congratulate her. To kiss her. Even to be closer to her. My inner voice was shocked into silence, and he stayed that way for a while.

As more people started showing up, the lights dimmed, and the DJ started playing music. Mostly, it was pop music that I wasn't really fond of. So, in order to prevent myself from being bored out of my skull, I poured myself a glass of punch, and grabbed some food off the food table (it's sad to say, but my mouth actually watered when I looked at it; I hadn't seen food that appetizing since the Awake-a-thon challenge, weeks ago). Then I sat in a table in a corner and watched Courtney talk to the people who I assumed were lawyers based on their outfits and stuffy manner of looking down at her past their noses when they talked.

Like she'd said earlier, it was really creepy. I sighed as I admitted it to myself. I was a creeper. But I couldn't **not** keep an eye on her. As more and more celebrities showed up, as well as people that I assumed were friends of the celebrities, or other people in charge of the show, I had to make sure none of them were getting particularly keen on her, so to speak. I wouldn't lose all the progress I'd made just to have her swept up by some jerk celebrity who would dump her if she got voted off.

* * *

After a while, there were a lot of people here, celebrities from around the world that Chris had worked with in the past, or would soon be working with. Among them were people like Drew Nelson, Emilie Claire-Barlow, Alessandro Juliani, Sarah Gadon, Christian Potenza, Todd Haberkorn, Cle Bennett, Megan Fahlenbock, Brian Drummond, Brad Swaile, Richard Ian Cox, Kirby Morrow, and Moneca Stori, as well as at least fifty other people, including (and this **had** to be deliberate) Celine Dion. And everybody was dancing, and moving, and eating and talking. Except me. To be honest, I wasn't a big party person. A lot of my partying in the past was due to alcohol or drugs. I loosened up when under the influence, but really, who doesn't?

Eventually, I was approached by someone I didn't recognize. Whoever it was knew me, though, and with wide eyes introduced herself as "Julia."

I responded to her with a short, "Hey, I'm Duncan." I was intending to be rude so she'd go away and leave me alone, but apparently, my shortness only made her sit down in the seat next to me.

"I know who you are." She said, still staring at me with wide eyes, as if I'd grown two heads. "You're on the show." She was talking quietly, so if I'd wanted to, I'd've had to strain to hear her. But, since I didn't want to listen to her, and just kept focusing on Courtney, I was able to tune her out... until, of course, she started talking louder, and waving her hand in my face. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

"Huh?" I asked, not realizing she was still there. I was focusing on Courtney so intently that I forgot about almost everybody else in the room. Except Celine Dion of course, who, if she hadn't already, would eventually learn of my phobia, and might approach me about it.

"I said, I'm Mark Thornton's daughter. You know, the producer?" She said snobbishly, almost as if it mattered to me.

"So? What's your point?" I asked, being snobby right back. She frowned, but I didn't notice.

"Sooo, I expect you to be a little bit nicer to someone who has the power to terminate your contract." She said, now sounding smug. I scowled, and finally tore my gaze from Courtney to glare at her. She looked taken aback. Apparently, this wasn't what she expected.

"So what do you want? A medal?" I scowled openly. She glared right back.

"I want to go out with you." She said, sounding like a spoiled, uppity brat. To say I was taken aback would have been an understatement.

"I-I'm sorry. What?" I stuttered out.

"Are you deaf? I said I want to go out with you." She said again, unabashed and unembarrassed.

I couldn't help but stare at her and wonder how old she was. No teenager I had ever met was this bratty. As I stared, I grew amused, and as I grew amused, I grew a smile. This smile was reflected on her face, and it appeared to her as though I was going to accept, until I burst out laughing. She glared again.

"What's so funny?" She demanded, crossing her arms.

I could only just barely choke out, "How **old** are you?" between gasps for air and peals of laughter.

She looked offended and irritated by my question. "I'm sixteen, thank you very much." She stuck her nose up in the air, and said, "So, now, give me your answer. Will you go out with me or not?"

She had to wait another minute for me to stop laughing, and once I caught my breath, I quite cheerfully said, "No!"

She looked as taken aback as I'd felt when she first revealed her intentions to me. "I'm sorry. What did you just say?"

"Are you deaf?" I mimicked her. She glared fiercely. "I said no." I was still amused, so my tone was quite cheerful. Almost as if I was trying to make fun of her.

And that was sure how she was taking it. She looked completely shocked that I was saying no, as if it weren't even possible that I could be saying no. She sort of reminded me of Heather. She was certainly hot like Heather, and had long, black hair like Heather, and definitely had the same attitude as Heather. They could have been sisters. "I don't know if you understand what I'm saying to you. My father is the producer of the show. I can get him to kick you **off**." She said, increasingly louder.

So in response, I said, "I don't know if **you** understand what I'm saying to you. I don't want to go out with you. I'm sure you're a catch among the guys at your school," (that was sarcastically said, but she still beamed as if I were being serious), "But you're a spoiled brat, and I'm not into spoiled brats. So go ahead and have me kicked off. You'll only prove my point." I said, then took a sip of my punch.

She sat there for a second, completely dumbfounded (or maybe just dumb) before, in one swift motion, her hand flipped my cup of punch right into my face and on my shirt. She stood up, and said, "My God, Duncan! No, I will not sleep with you, I don't even **know** you!" Then she stormed off, pretending as if I were the one at fault.

Her shouting had attracted the attention of several people in the vicinity. So, with punch in my hair, dripping off my face, soaking into my shirt and jeans, I stood up, grabbed a napkin, wiped off my face, and said to the onlookers, "If you want the truth, she just asked me out. I told her no. I also called her a spoiled brat. Apparently, some people can't take no for an answer." I said, a little bit amused. Then, amid stares from almost everyone in the room, and with a fake amused smile on my face, I left the Main Lodge to go to my cabin and change out of those clothes. I was done partying for the night.

* * *

Once in my cabin, a good term for what I did would be "freaked the hell out." I pulled the sheets right off of all the beds, and kicked the pillows and punched the walls and knocked things over. How **dare** that girl go and accuse me of something like that! I didn't even **know** her! And then, she goes and pulls something like that, and completely ruins my chances with Courtney! Nobody believed me, and why would they? She was an innocent girl, and I was a hardened criminal. Her story wouldn't be so hard to believe. I'd be lucky if even one person took my side in all of this.

As my anger faded, paranoia set in. How long would it take before someone was sent to take me off of the show? Would I have time to talk to Courtney first? To prove to her that I was innocent and that lying skank was a lying skank? I sighed. '_I don't see why it matters to you at this point._' The inner voice said flatly. '_She won't believe us anyways._'

I sighed again, and looked at the mess all around me. It was complete chaos. There were beds and pillows and feathers and clothes everywhere. I sighed a third time, only this time was impatient; now, I had to clean all of it up.

As I started pulling up random clothes, I heard a knock on the cabin door. "Come in." I said flatly.

To my dismay, it was Courtney, no doubt about to hit me or yell at me for my allegedly asking that girl to have sex with me. I didn't look at her, because I could already feel the scowl on my face. I gave her a minute to get over the shock at seeing the room in disarray, and while she was standing near the door, I continued to pick up clothes and separate them into piles.

What I didn't expect was to suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around me from the back, and hold it there. I stopped moving, completely shocked. Carefully, so that her hold on me wouldn't let go, I turned to face her. Her eyes were closed, and her face (which had previously been buried in my back) was now in my chest. Very surprised (and, I'll admit, a little pleased), I slowly lifted my arms to hug her back.

"I believe you." She whispered. It was so quiet, I barely even noticed she'd said anything. I asked her to repeat herself. "I believe you." She said louder.

There's one surprise after another. "Why?" I asked, still hugging her.

She finally pulled away from me. "Because after you left, she 'accidentally' spilled her drink on my shirt." She said, and pulled her shirt (that had been clinging to her without my noticing) away from her skin. There was a dark stain on it where I assumed Julia had purposely spilled her punch. "But there's good news." She said, smiling.

I raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "Oh, yea?" I didn't see how that was possible. Because of Julia's stupidity, not only had she alerted her father, she had also alerted Chris. Plus fifty or more other celebrities.

"Yea." She said. Then she grinned. "I made a scene."

Slowly, my scowl lifted, and I was grinning. I regretted leaving the party then. I would have paid to see Courtney get in a catfight with that girl. "What happened?" I had to ask.

"Well, she spilled her drink on my shirt, and said, 'Oops. Sorry' insincerely, you know? So I just smiled at her and said, 'Don't worry about it. Duncan'll still like me even if my clothes are dirty.' So obviously, she got mad, and said, 'How do you know? Obviously, he doesn't like you, because he just asked **me** if I'd sleep with him.' I just laughed, and said, 'See, that's funny, because he's been chasing after me since we got on this island.' Then I looked at her pitiably and said, 'No need to be jealous.'" She laughed, then, and I laughed too. Partly because of what she'd admitted (whether or not she would accept it), and partly because I was just so relieved that she believed me. "So then, Geoff and DJ came over, and asked me what happened to my shirt. I told them that Julia accidentally got some punch on it, but it was no big deal. So then," She had to stop, because she was laughing so hard, "So then, Geoff said, 'You know, Duncan was always saying that shirt wasn't your color. He said he preferred you in black.' Then he winked at Julia, and she just stomped right out of the party." She said, smiling.

I grinned too, but the paranoia wasn't really alleviated. I could see why making that scene might have helped the both of us get back at Julia, but I wasn't too sure what that would do about her father having overheard her yelling that lie, and I told Courtney as much.

She just continued to smile. "Oh, don't worry. You're not getting kicked off. For one thing, this was a Louis Vuitton shirt, and I told her father as much. I also slipped in that if a certain someone got randomly kicked off, I would sue her daughter for destruction of property." Then she laughed. "Besides, her father was eavesdropping on our confrontation. To be honest, I'm pretty sure he believes you too." She grinned, looking proud of herself.

It was at this point that I felt nauseous again, the kind of nauseous that I'd felt earlier when I was listening to her argue with Todd and Mark. The kind of nauseous that made me want to be with her more than I wanted anything in the entire world. I couldn't contain myself this time. I had to do something.

So, using all of my self-discipline, I managed to hug her without doing anything she would get mad at me for. I didn't say anything. I didn't kiss her. I kept my hands where I should have. But I had to hug her at the very least. It was possible that I was hugging her a little too tightly to be a grateful hug, but at that point, I didn't care. She should have been grateful it was just a hug. She did eventually hug me back, so at least I was sure she wasn't irritated by it.

When I could finally pull myself away, she was smiling at me. "You're welcome." She said. Then she looked around the room, and raised an eyebrow. I finally remembered that I had to clean the rest of the room before Geoff, DJ and Harold came back in. "Do you need some help?" She offered. I grinned at her. She nodded, and started picking up sheets and pillows.

* * *

Within half an hour, the entire room was clean. I was in charge of picking up and re-folding the clothes, and Courtney put the sheets and pillows back on the bunks. It had actually looked worse than it was. When we finished, I stood up and wiped my hands of imaginary dust.

"Looking good," I said, scanning the room for any more leftover debris from my fit. Seeing the room almost exactly the same as they'd left it, I smiled, and turned to face Courtney. I don't know why, but suddenly, I felt incredibly self-conscious. I didn't know what to say to her now. It was strange; I'd never been self-conscious before, ever. I'd never had a reason to. But now, after spending a whole day in Courtney's good graces, I couldn't think of anything to say. And that nausea was reaching epic levels, only it wasn't nausea. It was more pleasant, and calmer, and strangely happy.

"Uh..." I stammered out, needing to say something. She was looking at me, standing there gawking at her with my mouth open. The inner voice was unhelpfully silent. "I, uh..."

"You're welcome." She said. "And good night." She headed towards the door. My thoughts scrambled. '_Just one more minute._' I pleaded. '_Just stay for one more minute!_' Reaching out, I grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back to me. I hugged her again, only this time, I pressed my lips to her forehead. She froze. I let her go, then, and said, "Thank you. And goodnight." Then I smirked at her, quite sincerely.

She was apparently shocked. She stared at me, blinked a few times, then slowly turned and shut the cabin door behind her. I waited a few more minutes before relaxing and letting my face get hot and red, or so I assumed. I changed into my pajamas, and climbed into my bunk, and just laid there for a while. I couldn't believe I just did that. That was stupid of me. Irresponsible. Undisciplined. Irrational. Unnecessary. But I didn't regret it, and I fell asleep with a smile. Tonight had been worth all the anxiety. For the first time, I found that I was greatly looking forward to tomorrow.


	19. If You Can't Take The Heat

**A/N:** Heh. I took a little longer with this than I intended to. It was supposed to be up last Wednesday, but as I was about to post it, I got a different idea for the end, and went with that instead. So, now, here is is! :)

There's the mention of Teletoon later... They're the company that produces Total Drama Island. Also, the word 'damn' is used, but hey, that's why this story's rated T, amirite? :P

Next chapter might take a while. I'm kinda sick, and I've got a lot of schoolwork to make up. :(

I don't know if what I said was how you make cannolis, but hey. Don't worry 'bout it. :P

Countdown to Basic Straining:** FOUR!**

Alright! On with the show!

* * *

Two days after the party, I woke up, jumped down from my bunk, did two push ups, took a deep breath through my nose, and nearly puked. I jumped back in horror to find another pair of Harold's underwear right next to my face. I retaliated, horrified, and my shout woke up the rest of the guys. I stood up, and, while Geoff and DJ walked over to flank me, I looked at Harold and said, "Not **cool**, Harold, man! Not cool!" I said, glaring at him.

He just propped himself up on his elbow, and frowned at the underwear on the floor. "Those aren't mine." He denied. I rolled my eyes.

I stood up. "Oh, right." Then I pointed at him accusingly. "You're always leaving your gitch lying around." And to be frank, the rest of us were disgusted by it, and would appreciate it if you cut it out. I'd hoped that stringing his underwear to the flagpole yesterday would be a message to him to stop, but I guess it just spurred him to do it more. I frowned.

"No I'm not!" He denied. He sounded like a little kid. I sort of wanted to hit him for being so immature. The inner voice (who disapproved of confrontation) was rolling his eyes at what he called the 'hypocrisy.' Then Harold crossed his arms, and shouted, "Gosh!"

"Uh, yea, you are, dude." Geoff jumped in.

Harold now sat with his legs over the edge of his bunk. "You have, like, absolutely no proof!" He continued to deny. '_Why doesn't he just own up to it already, and pick it up?_' I snarled in my head.

"No one else **wears** that kind, dude." Geoff pointed out. Then DJ snickered. "And your mom sewed your name onto the label." Then he pointed at the offending underwear, and my eyes traveled down to the label. I could just barely make out a few stitches around the label that I hadn't noticed before. DJ had a good eye.

But Harold stood firm and wouldn't budge. "Whatever." He said, frowning and crossing his arms. Then he snatched his towel off of his bed and walked towards the door, yelling, "I'm going for a shower!"

"Hey, don't forget to clean the skid-maker!" I yelled after him. He slammed the door shut behind him. Once he was out of earshot, I watched the door, amused, and said, "I think Harold needs to be taught a lesson, boys. Who's with me?" I asked, and put my hand in between the three of us. They smiled, and let out simultaneous 'Yea!'s as we high-fived.

* * *

After I showered and dressed and fixed my hair, I headed to breakfast where, as predicted, Courtney acted as if nothing special happened yesterday. In fact, she was denying it so profusely that she was acting like she used to; sneering at me, insulting me, condescending to me. But I wasn't angry, or even annoyed, because I'd learned that her acting like this was her defense mechanism; she didn't want to like me, and hiding behind her cold, cruel wall was her way of denying what was right in front of her, and that was that she liked me.

'_She's going to crack any day now._' The inner voice said contentedly. I grinned into my breakfast of pale yellow slop that Chef said was oatmeal as she occasionally glanced over at me, and glared once I caught her looking.

Chris came in shortly after breakfast began, and told us that it was a challenge day as we'd predicted, and to meet him on the beach after breakfast.

Now that we'd all lost our appetite in anticipation of today's challenge (except, of course, Owen), we all headed in a group, sans Chris and Cody, who I assumed was voted off yesterday, to the beach, where Chris had already gone and was standing attentively facing towards the shore. The camera crew, already rolling, was behind Chris, so we lined up in front of him, facing the camera crew. Courtney placing herself right next to me was not outside my notice.

"Today's challenge will test your minds, your teamwork, and your skills in the kitchen." He said, winking one eye and putting a finger to his head. Sometimes, he was a little over-the-top dramatic. But, hey, we were being watched by over half of Canada. "You'll be cooking a three course meal and serving it to me, for tasting. The winners get a reward, and the losers will send somebody home. Each team will appoint a head chef, to create the theme of the meal, and to oversee the cooking.

"To cook," he carried on. "You need ingredients. Every morning, a truck brings us food." And as if on cue, a delivery truck pulled up onto the shore, being driven by what appeared to be a dolphin (but we learned later that it was just a guy in a dolphin costume). "Today's task starts there." Then he smiled. "You have until four o'clock to create the best meal you're capable of! So, campers!" He finished, then pointed to the truck. "Let's! Get! COOKIN'!"

Then Chris walked away, leaving us, the delivery truck, and the camera crew.

* * *

We all headed over to the delivery truck to open the back hatch door and look around at all the ingredients inside. Geoff, DJ and I were the first ones there. Geoff, after glancing around the interior, eventually said, "We could do a killer Italian theme!" He was grinning as he checked once more for all the ingredients he would need.

I grinned at him. I did remember him once saying he was a particularly good cook. "Hello Head Chef!" I said, giving him the title. I was sure nobody else would object.

"Seriously?" Geoff asked, going bright eyed. DJ and I nodded. Geoff grinned wider. "Then let's get grabbing!" He said, then climbed into the truck. Carefully, he picked up boxes of ingredients, tomatoes, a ham, baguettes and cheeses, some spices, some pasta, and passed them off to the rest of us. We carried the ingredients to the kitchen, and, after putting on an apron, Geoff turned to the rest of us.

"Okay, so we got three courses, and, like... six people, so... partner up!" He said, then tossed a can of tomato juice to Harold.

"I know how to make pasta sauce." DJ said, and next to him, Bridgette said, "I know how to boil pasta." They looked at each other, grinned, and high-fived.

"Me and Sadie can rock the antipasto." Harold said, smiling at Sadie, who smiled back, and nodded. "I'm like, a black belt when it comes to cutting cheese." Immediately, we all started to laugh. He was like, a black belt at choosing the wrong words to say. "What?" He asked defensively, putting his hands on his hips.

Then I grinned, because if DJ was partnered with Bridgette, Harold was partnered with Sadie, and Geoff was the head chef, that meant—"I guess that leaves you and me on desert detail." I said slyly to Courtney. For a second, her face went blank, and just as soon, frowned.

"Oh no." She said, putting up a hand. Then she stood up. "No way."

Then Geoff walked over between the two of us, putting a hand on either of our shoulders. "Come on Courtney! It's for the team!" He said, then put the hand on Courtney's shoulder on mine, and we both looked at her with wide, innocent smiles, and batted our eyelashes. She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine." Then she glared at me so abruptly the smile fell off of my face. "But any funny business, and I **will** kick you." She warned. I nodded, believing her.

She relaxed, and said, "So, what are we doing for dessert?" She asked Geoff. Geoff smiled, and said, "Well, since we're going for an Italian theme, you guys want to make cannolis?" He suggested. I shrugged. "You'll have to go to the truck for the ingredients." He said apologetically.

I nodded, and the three of us went to the door. "Where are you going?" Courtney asked Geoff. Geoff looked at me pointedly, and said, "Oh, just need to grab something from my cabin." He said, and grinned. I immediately caught his drift, and nodded.

Courtney looked between the two of us suspiciously, and when we parted from Geoff, she turned to me. "What is Geoff going to do?" she asked accusingly.

I just grinned and, with amusement lacing my tone, said, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that." As I'd hoped, my comment made her blush and kept her quiet.

We reached the truck, and I climbed on, searching through the ingredients for what Geoff had told me to grab. Flour, sugar, salt, eggs, whipping cream, vanilla extract, powdered sugar.... When I found everything I was looking for, I handed half of the ingredients to Courtney, then jumped off of the truck. While we walked back to the kitchen, I saw Geoff carrying a bag. He grinned at me, and waved. I grinned back. Courtney looked suspicious again, but was still blushing, so she didn't say anything.

* * *

Back in the kitchen, I was in charge of making the pastries while she was in charge of making the custard. And while there was a lot going on around us, I took very little notice of it. I was too busy paying attention to her and the orders she was giving me. It wasn't even that I needed the ingredients; I had a sheet myself that Geoff had written for me with the instructions on it. But I didn't want her to stop talking, so I let her continue.

When the dough was finally mixed, she put flour down on the table and I put the dough on the table. She handed me a rolling pin that she'd covered with flour (she said that it would help keep the dough from sticking, but I wasn't really concerned), and I started to roll the dough out into one big, thin sheet.

"Careful your big paws don't mash the pastry." She instructed. I almost would have been offended, but her insult lacked bite. So I was just as insincere with my retort.

"Careful your uptight butt doesn't curdle the custard." I said with a smile.

"Oh, ha ha ha." She said sarcastically, looking towards the door. Then she shrieked in disgust. I followed her gaze to the door to see Harold in a way too small pair of underwear and nothing else. I frowned, slightly disgusted.

"Okay, who took all my shorts?" He asked, annoyed. Geoff and DJ were chuckling, trying not to burst out laughing. I averted my gaze back to Courtney, whose face was red. She looked disgusted as she continued mixing the custard, and I returned to rolling out the pastry dough.

Eventually, I finished rolling out the dough, and Courtney had put the custard in the fridge to cool. She proceeded to watch my hands with utmost concern as I cut the pastry into even slices for rolling. She frowned. "They're all uneven sizes, Duncan." She said, obviously displeased. I continued cutting.

"Haven't you ever heard of the beauty of imperfection?" I asked her calmly, ignoring her. She sighed heavily.

"Just give me the knife, Duncan." She said, taking it out of my hand forcibly.

"Whoa, be careful." I said, a little nervous. "That knife is sharp. I would have just given it to you." She ignored me, though, so I sighed, and walked over to Harold, DJ and Geoff to hear Harold shout, "SO GIVE ME BACK MY PANTS, THEN!"

I stepped in to say, "Harold's right, guys." Then I put my arm on his shoulder and, pretending to be nice, I said, "If you go back to the cabin, there'll be a clean pair of underwear and shorts waiting." He smiled, and headed towards the cabin. I looked at Geoff, who was grinning and nodding his head. We all started to laugh, and from my back pocket, I pulled out the hot sauce that Geoff had just put in Harold's underwear.

Good. Everything was set up. If this plan worked, Harold would think twice before leaving his nasty drawers on the ground next time. And maybe we **were** being a little cruel to Harold, but hey! We were sick of the guy being a mess, so we decided to take the initiative.

* * *

After all that was done, I went back to Courtney to find her rolling the last pastry into a small tube. I smiled at her. "So, now what?" I asked.

"Can you put some oil in a pot and bring it to a boil?" She asked, focusing intently on rolling the cannoli shell perfectly. I followed her instructions, and by the time the oil was boiling, she was still focused on the same cannoli shell.

I frowned. "Princess, I think it'll be fine if you put it in as-is." I raised an eyebrow.

She just gave me a look. "What are you talking about? It has to be perfect! We're not going to win this contest for poor presentation." She said, then went back to flattening it out and rerolling it. I sighed heavily, grabbed the tray of shells, poured them carelessly in the oil, then grabbed the dough she was just about to unroll. She gasped, and groaned as I put the shell in the oil.

"Duncan! What'd you do that for?" She asked, horrified.

"Look, Princess, it doesn't have to be perfect. He's mostly judging us on how the food tastes. He's not going to fail us just because one cannoli shell isn't perfect. Besides, it was just fine. Like Chris can tell the difference anyways." I said calmly. She sighed heavily, and grabbed a pair of tongs. I grabbed some paper towels and put them down on the tray. She glanced at me furtively.

"What are the paper towels for?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"When you take the shells out, the paper towels'll soak up excess grease. My mom used to do that when she made French fries and bacon." I explained logically. I grabbed the tongs from her hands and gently clamped the tongs around it. It didn't crumble or crack, so I picked it up and set it on the plate. The towel got damp under and around the shell, so I looked at Courtney smugly, then gave her the tongs back.

* * *

After she took out all the shells, she went to the freezer and took out the (now solid) custard for inside the cannolis. She looked at it, chuckled a bit, and proceeded to begin mixing it, or trying to at least. I smirked, then walked over to talk to DJ. However, we barely got two seconds into conversation before Harold walked in, dressed in his pajamas.

DJ, Geoff and I began clapping. "Nice 'jammies." I said, trying not to laugh. Harold just walked forward, not saying a word, not looking at anybody.

"This is all I've got left." He said flatly. "So if you sickos want to see me butt-naked, hit me with your best shot."

"Well, stop leaving your butt-bags all over the cabin, and we'll back off." I told him. It wasn't that we had a problem with him; none of us really got a kick out of picking on other guys since we were, like, eight. But his bad habit was absolutely disgusting, and it had to be stopped. We might have been a little cruel in our approach, but we'd do whatever it took to get the job done.

"I told you it wasn't me!" He repeated defensively. Except that it was. And the sooner he admitted it, the sooner we'd stop torturing him.

"Well, I tried." I told DJ, who just grinned.

"Hey, guys!" Geoff said, walking to the plate of sandwiches he'd prepared. DJ had already gone around and warned everyone not to take one, and that they all had a special ingredient added that none of them wanted to try. "I made some sandwiches. We can chow down while we work!" He said. I was starting to regret tampering with all of them; we were only allowed so many ingredients to use for lunch, and I was getting kind of hungry.

"Aw, sweet! I'm seriously starving." Harold said, running over and grabbing one. We all watched for a moment as he took a bite, and slowly chewed. "This tastes like sweat and lotion. It's probably the worst sandwich ever." Then he reached into his sandwich and pulled out the 'secret ingredient' just as he swallowed his mouthful—a pair of his nasty briefs. His face went completely blank. Then he flinched back and dropped both the underwear and the sandwich. "Gross!" He yelled, jumping back a step.

We all laughed (except Harold, of course), and Geoff said, "We'll return all your shorts and panties when you admit your guilt, dude." He said. Harold seemed to finally understand, but he didn't say anything. He'd probably wait until later.

* * *

A little while later, the custard for the cannolis was finally finished. Since Courtney had worn out her hands trying to defrost it quicker (which I warned her not to do, but she didn't listen to me), she allowed me to be in charge of getting the custard in the shells.

But of course she wouldn't just let me do it on my own. She watched over me like a hawk. I could feel her breathing on my neck, and as pleasant as it would have sounded in any other context, it wasn't as glorious when we were in a kitchen full of other people whose tempers were high and spirits were low.

"You're such a slob." She said after I'd only filled three. "They all have to have the **same** amount of custard!" She criticized. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, relax, they're fine." I said, and continued to overstuff the rest. Then, for good measure, I added, "You know, you'd be a lot more fun without that pole up your butt."

She looked completely affronted. "I'm, like, the most easy-going person I know!" She said defensively. I almost laughed. If she was the most easy-going person she knew, she must not get out much.

"Oh, yea, you're **totally** laid back." I said, and sarcastically squirted some of the custard at her. With aim that I didn't know was possible with a pastry filler, it hit her square in the face. She looked momentarily shocked, then she picked up the bowl and threw it right in my face. As I stood there with a flat expression (not because I was angry, but because I probably should have seen it coming), she giggled, and wiped a finger-full of custard off my face and ate it.

I picked the bowl up off my face and put it down. With both hands, I wiped some of the custard off my face and threw it at her. Only one handful hit her. Geoff, finally noticing our food-fight, came in to stop us before it got out of hand. "As much as I love a good food-fight, I don't think it's entirely appropriate right now. We don't have a lot of time left, dudes. Flirt all you want on your own time." He said, then winked at Courtney, whose face went completely blank, then slowly red. Then he grinned at me, and went back to monitoring everyone else.

After that, Courtney started to clean up the spilled custard while I filled the rest of the cannolis. I didn't really care much about the custard that was now drying on my shirt and in my hair. I could wash all that off after I was done.

When I was done filling the cannolis, Courtney grabbed the tray and put it in the fridge, not even commenting on their irregular proportions. We had finished our assignment, and Geoff gave us permission to "go goof off or whatever." Considering I now had cannoli custard sticking to my clothes and hair, I figured I would take a shower.

But we only had ten minutes, so instead of just taking a long second shower, I decided instead to just wash my hair and change my clothes. I cleaned the custard out of all of my piercings, an effort which took longer than the actual shower did. I got back just in time for the judging. Geoff came in from the dining room, and he said, "Alright, antipasto. Harold, Sadie, where'd you guys put the antipasto?" Sadie handed him the dish, and he winked at them and said, "Awesome, guys, I'm feeling a win on this one!" Followed by DJ and Bridgette carrying the pasta, he entered the dining room grinning widely.

He came back only a few minutes later, and said, quite cheerfully, "We got fifteen points for the antipasto and the pasta!" He gloated. Then he turned to me and Courtney. "You guys finish those cannolis?"

Courtney gasped in what I assumed was horror. "Oh, no! We left them in the fridge!" When nobody responded, she said, "They're going to get completely solid!" She ran to the fridge and took them out. Locating the microwave, she put them in for a minute before we were called out. When the cannolis came out of the microwave, they looked... just awful. The shell was a little soggy, and the custard looked runny.

Courtney started hyperventilating, and panicking, and saying that she ruined everything and that we were going to lose, until Bridgette gave her a paper bag. A few deep breaths, and Courtney was able to follow me into the dining room, cannolis in tow.

* * *

We stood there as Chris took a bite of the cannoli, and after a few agonizing seconds (during which I saw Courtney starting to breathe strangely again, so I put my hand on her shoulder to try to calm her; it worked), swallowed it. "Ehh...." He trailed off, shaking his hand from side to side. "Six." Courtney looked disappointed. I scowled. But we were still winning, now twenty-one to eleven. The Gophers would need all ten points to even tie, which, by the look of their dish, they might have gotten.

But this turned out not to be a problem at all; the second Chris stuck his fork in the cake, the whole thing puffed into a flume of black dust and settled on the plate in a pile of ash. Raising his eyebrow at it, Chris found a small, charred piece of cake and took a bite. Almost immediately, he began choking, and Owen came right up behind him and did the Heimlich maneuver. Chris spat out the small piece of what he was choking, and glared.

He picked up the offending piece of char and said, "What the heck is this?!"

"It's Heather's recipe!" Lindsay said. Then she gasped. "Oh, my gosh! She's still in the fridge!" She said, then ran into her side of the kitchen. For a second, Chris looked at LeShawna in what I assumed was concern.

LeShawna just shrugged. "What? Girl was makin' everyone trip." She said defensively. Chris laughed.

"Oh, I hear that." He acknowledged. Then he gasped; Heather was tinted light blue and shivering like crazy. Not to mention glaring daggers at everyone, even those who were completely innocent, like me and Courtney. Then she turned to her teammates and said, "You guys are s-s-s-so dead!" Then she turned to Chris. "Is it over?"

"It is." He said decidedly. Then he pointed to us, and said, "The Killer Bass win, twenty-one to twelve! And, it's not because I almost died. The ribs sucked." While we were cheering, I could just barely hear Heather yelling at her teammates. We all group-hugged Geoff for being an awesome head chef and leading us to victory. Then we heard Chris saying more words, so we turned to listen. "Okay, the Killer Bass now lead with seven members to the Gophers soon-to-be six. And as promised," he said, now turning to us with a smile, "the winners will be enjoying a reward tonight. A five-star dinner... under the stars." He said anticlimactically.

We cheered again, only this time, I turned to Courtney. Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I picked her up and held her there.

"Put me down!" She said, laughing. I didn't. Then she got stern, and glared. "Put me down!" Noting her tone, I put her down, slightly out of arms reach, and grinned apologetically as she glared at me. I didn't know why she was so fussed. Maybe it was because of Geoff's flirting comment from earlier. Whatever the case, she didn't look happy, even though we won.

Geoff came over with his arm already around DJ's shoulders and put his arm around mine. "Let's walk, fellas. Seems we've got some things to discuss." He said, and basically dragged me by the neck out of the Main Lodge. I waved back to Courtney, but I couldn't even tell if she saw it, such was Geoff's hurry.

* * *

"So, dudes, what d'you guys think?" He asked quite seriously. I looked to DJ to see if I was alone in wondering what Geoff was talking about. Fortunately, I wasn't. Seeing our confusion displayed on our faces, Geoff elaborated. "About me'n Bridge. You think she digs me?"

I shrugged. I had been too wrapped up in my ordeal with Courtney to worry too much about Bridgette. DJ, however, had more to say on the subject. "Well, she definitely thinks you're cute. But I think you put her off a bit with that 'hot mom' comment." DJ said. I chuckled, not really wanting to know the details. Knowing Geoff, it was something incredibly stupid that would have made Bridgette hate him.

He looked a little downcast, so I said, "Hey, man, don't worry. We've got that dinner thing tonight. Just ask her to sit with you, sorta privately. Try to think about the things you wouldn't want to hear her say. Like, about how some celebrity is really hot, or that she really liked this one guy in the past or something. And then try not to say anything like that." I suggested. I was a little surprised with myself. When did I become a girl expert? Was this a natural talent, or was it because of Courtney?

Geoff looked a little surprised, but it was for a different reason. "You know, I never really thought of that." Then he looked contemplative (or at least, as contemplative as Geoff is capable of looking). After a few seconds, he frowned. "Okay, yea. I see what you're getting at there." Finally, he scowled. It didn't look right on his face. "Okay. I got it now. No more talking about other girls around her." He shook his head slowly. "Man, I'm such a screw-up."

DJ punched him on the shoulder. "Aw, come on man. It's not so bad. She'll give you another chance. She's a forgiving person."

Geoff sighed, and gave a half-hearted smile. "I guess so."

* * *

Later that night, we all met at the Main Lodge for our prize dinner. Chris had instructed us to dress nicely, and so it was in a pair of loose jeans and a clean t-shirt, with my hair left down that I followed Geoff and DJ into the Main Lodge. Geoff was dressed how he normally was, only he had a shirt on under his pink shirt and he left his hat in the cabin. DJ was just wearing a different shirt.

We entered the Main Lodge wondering what Chris would have done differently. As expected, it was slightly decorated; it was dark, and there were glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. I snorted. Dinner under the stars all right...

Down on the floor, the two team tables disappeared and the smaller tables from the party a couple days ago were back, except there were only a few of them. I assumed we wouldn't be having company this time. To say I was unhappy with that would have been a lie. God knows I didn't need another show like what happened last time.

Chris and Chef were standing behind a buffet table, grinning at the rest of us. They probably thought they were being clever with the 'stars' thing. Truthfully, I guess that was kind of clever, but I wouldn't have said anything. They didn't need their ego fed. Chris then spread his arms out wide and said, "Welcome, Bass, to your five-star dinner!" Then he grinned wider and said, "Well, Chef and I'll get out of your way!" He turned to Chef and nodded his head towards the door. At the door, he turned back to us and said, "Help yourselves to your dinner!" Then he snickered, and left.

We all stood around the tables for a couple minutes. Nobody wanted to approach the table after Chris snickered like that. So instead, we got things to drink and sat around the tables together.

And for a while, things were okay. During our celebrations for winning challenges, we acted like a team. Nobody picked on anyone else. Nobody was better than anyone else. We were all sort of friends. And it was pretty great.

Finally, Geoff groaned. "Okay. I know we're all worried about what's on that table being potentially dangerous, but I'm starving." Geoff said. He stood up and walked over to the table. Carefully, he lifted the lid on the first plate to find... star-shaped fruit salad.

"Huh?" Geoff asked, looking at it. We all filed in behind him. There was a bunch of fruits, cut into star-shapes. Geoff moved over to the next plate and opened it; it was star-shaped hamburgers, and hamburger buns cut into star shapes. He opened the next one, and it was miniature star-shaped pizza bagels. The next one was star shaped cookies, and the last one was a big, star-shaped cake.

I couldn't exactly speak for everyone else, but I was definitely in shock. They put that much effort into making a dinner for us? It was weird, and more than a little bit unnerving. There had to be something wrong with this. It was probably poisonous, or expired. Maybe it was all moldy...

But it looked delicious. I turned to Geoff, who shrugged. Then I looked at DJ, who just looked surprised. Then I looked at Courtney, who saw something on the table and moved forward. She picked it up, and read it, then grinned widely.

"Here's the explanation." She said, laughing. She handed it to me and I read it out loud;

"'_Dear Courtney,_

_We here at Teletoon productions would like you and your teammates to enjoy this dinner that we hand-prepared for your enjoyment. We also apologize for the shirt that Mark Thornton's daughter so rudely destroyed, and hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive her. She also apologizes._

_Sincerely,_

_Production_'"

Courtney laughed. "They made this for us to bribe me into not suing them." Then she grinned, and grabbed a plate. "Like I was going to sue anyways."

* * *

After that, we all managed to enjoy ourselves again. We all sat around a single table while we ate, and laughed, and enjoyed ourselves. After a while, Geoff and Bridgette left together, and we all teased them for it. Then Sadie went to bed, then DJ and Harold, and suddenly, there we were; just me and Courtney. For a few minutes, we barely even noticed; we just continued with the conversation we'd been having. Then, when I said something funny, and only Courtney laughed, I finally realized; _we were completely alone._

She seemed to realize it at the same time I did, because she suddenly blushed, and stood up. "I'm going to go get another drink. You want one?" I shook my head, and she stood up. My back was to the buffet table, so I wasn't watching her, and I used that time to clear my head and come up with a plan. The inner voice was quick to suggest an old plan. '_Just keep pushing._' He said. '_She's come so close to breaking before. Don't give in! We're so close!_' I nodded at him, and stood up and walked over to Courtney silently. She didn't notice I was behind her until she turned around and jumped so hard that she dropped her drink.

"Duncan! What'd you do that for?" She asked, giving me an annoyed glare. I just grinned. Her face went blank. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're kind of creeping me out." She said matter-of-factly.

"You like me." I said calmly. She raised an eyebrow at me, and started to argue, but I put a finger to her lips, and kept my eyes on hers. "I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it." I carried on. I moved closer, an action that didn't escape her notice; she moved back towards the table, now trapped between it and me. Her face got slowly red. I moved my face closer to hers. "Why don't you just admit it? I'll tell you if you'll tell me." I bargained. She didn't move, or say anything. I couldn't tell if she was even breathing. But finally, she took a deep breath, held it, and eventually spoke.

"I..." She started. I didn't move, keeping our eyes locked. "I... I don't know what you're talking about." She said, sounding breathless. Then she exhaled, and said, "Would you please get out of my personal space, Duncan?"

I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and moved back. She was clearly lying; her face was still red, and I could almost hear her heart beating twice as fast as normal. I felt a little irritated, but the inner voice was more calm and rational than me. '_Don't worry, Duncan. This is progress we're making! Every time we confront her like this, we just get closer and closer...._'

I scowled at him (being careful not to let it show on my face). '_What good's progress gonna do when one of us gets kicked off??_' As I'd expected, he didn't have an answer.

* * *

After that, we both ended up returning to our respective halves of the cabin. We didn't say a word for the entire walk back, and upon separation, we only exchanged a quick 'good night' before parting. I entered the cabin to find Geoff, DJ and Harold sitting on the floor talking. They looked up when I came in.

"What's going on, guys?" I asked curiously. This was definitely a weird site to see, especially considering what we planned on doing to Harold tomorrow morning.

Geoff grinned at me, and patted the floor next to him, indicating that I take a seat. I did. He continued talking. "So, after we left, Bridge and I went walking down by the dock, right? And we started talking about how random this show was, and how one of us might get kicked off at any time and stuff, and..."

For the most part, I just tuned him out. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts about the conversation I'd just had with Courtney, and wondering when she was finally going to admit it. I tried to listen, and I felt bad when I couldn't keep interested, but honestly, I couldn't. Not only did Geoff's stories about Bridgette irritate me, but they also made me incredibly jealous. How was it fair that things just worked out for Geoff, when I had to fight to the bone for Courtney to even admit to liking me?

In the middle of Geoff's story, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I was getting more and more irritated and jealous, and I had to get out of there before I said something I'd regret. However, instead of heading to the bathroom, I headed down to the beach. I sat on the sand, and mindlessly lifted and poured the sand from my hand. I watched the water, and I watched the moon, and I watched the tide ebb and flow and hit the dock before reeling back. And I was strangely sad by it all, but I couldn't explain it. Was that all my relationship with Courtney would be? Ebb and flow?

What if she never admitted it? What if she didn't like me? What if I wasted all this time trying to get her to like me, and one of us was just voted off? What would I do? Would I be able to handle it? Would I be angry? Would I start to hate Geoff? Or Bridgette? That wouldn't be fair to them, but I decided that I probably would, out of jealousy and spite.

Then I sighed. I really hadn't changed, had I?

When I returned to the cabin, the others had already gone to sleep. I climbed into my bunk, and laid down and tried not to think about her before I fell asleep.


	20. In Which Duncan Quits

**A/N:** Fact: Short chapter is SHORT. SHORTSHORTSHORT. Short shorts, short. Barely over a thousand words short.  
This chapter is mildly important, despite it's size. And it took me a long time to write it, because I had no idea how I wanted to go about this chapter. But I'm proud of my work, and am pleased with the outcome.

Now for the warning: MAJOR angst. Not really depressing. Just angsty.  
Also, the word 'bastard' is used once. Well, technically twice now. But still. There's a swear in this chapter! CAPS LOCK, OMG!! :P

Again, sorry for the shortness, especially after such a long wait. But I'm currently on spring vacation, so the next chapter will be out... maybe tomorrow, honestly. Maybe the day after, because my dad's coming to visit me. But it should be out by Monday at the very latest.

This section here has absolutely nothing to do with the chapter, but I just can't keep this info to myself. I've been so obnoxious about it, actually. xD The news is that all my issues are gone. And I have no problem telling you now what they were.  
I had what I think might have been manic-depression (I was told what it was, but I had a VERY high fever, and can't really remember). They affected me so much that in states of 'manic,' I nearly did some things that I wouldn't be proud of, and in states of 'depressive,' I would barely have the energy to turn over in my bed.  
Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, I was constantly, constantly getting ill. I had the stomach flu, followed by a cold, followed by strep-throat, followed by bronchitis. Then I had a stomach bug again.  
And then, one day roughly three or four weeks ago, I woke up in the morning, and was violently ill. High fever, dizziness, nausea, chest pains, the whole nine yards. My mom took me to the ER, and, in the ER, had a 'manic-attack.' This time, there were witnesses to see what was happening (which had never happened before; if I felt myself getting bad, I would excuse myself to another room, or leave the house).  
To make a very long end-half of the story short, I stayed in the psych ward for roughly a week. There, I met some people I will never forget. I took a mind-vacation, so to speak. And, best of all, without the use of any medicine at all, I got better. For the past two weeks, I haven't even felt slightly manic-depressed. I know that's not a very long time to judge, but truly, I feel so, so much better.

So, to make a VERY long A/N short, here's your countdown before the beginning of the chapter:  
Countdown to Basic Straining: **THREE!**

* * *

When I woke up, I decided I quit. Yup. That's right. I quit.

I got down from my bunk and headed to the shower and didn't think about her for a second. I washed and dressed and fixed my hair and put in my piercings and ignored the inner voice trying to talk me out of it. I didn't look at her when I passed her on my way back into the cabin. I didn't say a word to her.

And that's how I spent the time until our next challenge. I ignored her. I treated her as if she wasn't there, and when forced to talk to her (if, for example, she was in my way, and I had to ask her to move), I was as polite and casual as possible.

I was just so sick of trying so hard. I'd decided on the beach last night, when thinking about the tide, that that was all our relationship was, and I was sick of the confusion, the hot and cold. I was tired of trying not to say the wrong thing. I was tired of trying to be the good guy when I couldn't do anything but screw things up for everybody. I couldn't tell if we were friends, or if she liked me (I could interpret her reactions all I wanted, but it didn't mean I was right), or if we would even make a good couple, being such polar opposites. She was good. I wasn't. She was book-smart. I was street-smart. She was a winner. I was too determined not to play the game to allow myself the chance to win or lose. And that was exactly what I was doing right now; quitting before I even had a chance, too afraid of losing to try.

The two days in between the cooking challenge and our next challenge were possibly the most difficult I'd ever had to go through. It's hard to pretend to be happy when all your faith was crushed; I guess in a way, determined as I was not to lose, I lost. I lost hope. I lost will. I lost determination. I might have lost my head, too, while I was at it; I had random stretches of immobility, almost trance-like, that I just sat somewhere and stared for a while, and when I finally moved again, I couldn't remember where I was or how long I'd been there.

I did a lot of walking those few days. I ignored my legs completely, and eventually, it was really easy, because eventually, they went numb on their own, and I didn't have to think about them.

I don't think I was heartbroken. I think I was more shocked than upset. I was shocked that I'd given up. I was shocked that I'd allowed myself to take it that far. I was shocked at how childish I was being, and I was shocked that I even managed to realize that I was the only one at fault for this.

* * *

The time I spent around the other campers was intolerable. I was in such a bad mood that everybody just left me completely alone. I didn't blame them. I could almost feel the bad vibe I was giving off. I sure wouldn't want to be around me. Not when I had something better to do, like Geoff did; he had Bridgette and DJ to hang out with. Lucky bastard.

As much as I tried not to be, I was incredibly jealous of Geoff. I'd told myself long enough that I wasn't, but while I was in the process of giving up, I decided I might as well give up lying to myself. I was jealous of Geoff. I was childish. I was selfish. I was antisocial. I was depressing at best, and I couldn't see any reason anybody would have wanted to be near me.

I sighed when I realized that the inner voice wasn't there to talk to me. '_It makes sense,_' I thought bitterly, lying in a tree late one night, tossing a small ball that I'd found in camp up and catching it. '_It's my common sense. If I believe myself on this, he will too._'

Needless to say, it was a lonely couple of nights.

* * *

I honestly did try to look on the bright side. I could just relax and let myself get voted off now; now that I had nothing to stay on for, it didn't matter what I did. I nodded to myself as I thought about the best possible way to get voted off. At first, I thought maybe being obnoxious would do the trick, but thought against it; I was too tired, physically and psychologically, to bother being any more annoying than I had been in the past. Then I contemplated being depressing, but realized that, though I was jealous of him, I didn't want to bring him down like that.

I sighed again. My thoughts were becoming scattered and hard to keep track of at this point; I felt like I had after the Awake-a-thon; tired and dopey and unable to concentrate. I wondered if I was depressed. Or schizo. Maybe both. I **had** been hearing voices…

I spent a lot of time with my iPod. I didn't listen to it, but I felt more comfortable knowing I had it with me. I would lay on my back and put my iPod on my stomach, and just sit there and stare at the umbrella of leaves and branches over my head. If I weren't in such a bad mood, I would have easily relaxed.

And all of that was only in one day...

* * *

The second day was just as bad as the first. I was lonely. I was depressed. I was hopeless. And I was ignored. Except for one person, who seemed to want to be friends at the absolute worst times. Courtney wouldn't stop pestering me, the whole day. I would go somewhere by myself, and minutes later, she would show up. Mostly coincidental, but I knew a few times were definitely on purpose. For example, I was sitting on the beach, very close to the forest, and she just "happened" to be walking along the edge of the beach with her iPod, and pretended not to see me until she was barely feet from me. Then she would accuse me of following her (because in her warped little mind, I was always at fault. Always), and I would ignore her, and sit there like a child and take her reprimands before apologizing, then standing up and leaving her standing there behind me.

And she never got the hint. Over the course of the day, she and I ran into each other twelve times, and only four of them were coincidental. She "accidentally" was behind me in line for lunch, even though she'd been sitting at the table talking with Bridgette until I was in the line. She "coincidentally" ran into me as I was heading from the washrooms as she was heading towards. We met up walking through the woods, twice. And every time, it was always the same;

"Duncan, are you following me?! Cut that out! You're such an ogre!" She would say, changing it up each time, but essentially always the same. And every time, I would say, "Sorry. I'll try harder next time." I never changed my response. I wasn't in the mood to be sharp-tongued, more focused on getting as far away from her as possible.

Eventually, when we "accidentally" met up walking in different directions by the beach, I got so fed up with it, and just hid in my bed for the rest of the evening. I skipped dinner completely. While laying in my bed, I finally relaxed enough to fall asleep, and I drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling as if I'd been awake forever.


	21. Who Can You Trust?

**A/N:** First of all, I just want to thank all of you who reviewed the last chapter. When posting everything that had been happening to me, I hadn't anticipated as many reviews and messages as I received. I just want to say that I'm extremely grateful that you guys cared enough to wish me luck and be glad with me that I'm okay now. I appreciate it, guys. I really do. :)

Next, I'd like to address something that I haven't for a few chapters:  
Readers: You make me so happy, I stay up all night writing the next chapter, even on Easter.  
Reviewers: You make me so happy, I stay up all night, drink so much coffee there's no chance of me getting sleep for the next week and a half, make so many typos writing the chapter that I have to reread it seven times before I can understand a thing I wrote, and finish the next chapter in time for it to be a nice Easter morning gift. :)  
Seriously, readers and reviewers, you guys are what this is all about, and without you guys, I'd be a shriveled old lady, curled up on my bed, stroking my stuffed Nemo plushie and muttering to myself about politics from the 20's. :P

That being said, I've got just a few more things to address before I let you guys lose:  
First: As much as I truly hate it in the stories for which I try to keep it intact, I broke Canon a few times in this chapter. In the beginning, the argument between Duncan and Courtney in the show is different than in here. As much as I would have loved to use that argument (it was one of my favorites of theirs in the entire season, the one regarding the coffee mug) in its entirety, I'm afraid that's just how it had to be.  
The other few times are hardly noticeable unless you're watching the episode while reading this, but still, they irritated me, and I just felt you would appreciate the warning. :)

Second: There's a point in this chapter during which I switched to Courtney's point of view. It should be obvious enough, because Duncan only refers to himself in the third person when his inner voice is talking to him (lolpsycho!), but just in case, I thought you would again appreciate the warning.

Third: This is probably my most favoritest chapter ever. I love this chapter enough to use improper grammar when describing how much I love it. :)

And lastly, fourth:  
Countdown to Basic Straining: **TWO!  
**Now, on with the show!

* * *

The next morning wasn't as bad as the last two. I felt more resigned this morning than I did the last two, which wasn't exactly easier, but it did feel better. I decided to just keep going, at least; let the chips fall where they may. I was still done; I'd still given up. But I wasn't going to just let the rest of the game pass me by. Courtney wasn't my entire life on the island; I could still win this thing, whether or not I liked her. So I woke up resigned to win the challenge so that I could at least have something to brag about when I got home.

I showered and dressed and fixed my hair, like normal. I would appear to be in a good mood so they wouldn't kick me off, and I would fight to the bone to win upcoming challenges. I couldn't leave this place without winning something, and that something wasn't going to be Courtney. The entire game would make a good consolation prize.

I walked into the Main Lodge, and received a few strange looks, from Geoff, DJ, Bridgette, Trent and Gwen. But they saw that I wasn't apparently in a bad mood, and smiled. I stood in line and got my breakfast, then went to the coffee stand, desperately in need of a cup of coffee. Then I noticed something; the coffee mugs looked different. Really, cool, too. As I waited for my cup of coffee to fill, I looked around me; nobody was watching, they were all distracted. So, quickly, I grabbed the mug and put it in my shirt and pants just so that nobody would see it and notice. Or at least, I thought nobody noticed.

The second I grabbed my cup and turned around, Courtney was right in my face, and she looked **mad**.

"I saw that!" She said, pointing in my face accusatorily. I rolled my eyes, and tried to side step her, but she just moved too, resolute on being in my way. "How could you just **steal** a mug?" She asked, as if I'd wronged her personally.

"Because it's cool-looking, and I don't have one." Then I smirked. "Didn't have one, that is." I said, as I got around her and walked over to the table. She followed me, determined to make me feel guilty about it. Well, she could try all she wanted. It was a mug! Who in their right mind would miss a mug?

"But you might get kicked off!" She whispered, still failing to stir any feeling in me. I guess my efforts to give her up were a success, because I didn't feel anything when I looked at her. Just a little sad.

"So?" I asked, sounding a little sassy. "It's not like anybody else cares."

"Well, I do! We're one player short, and I don't want to lose because you feel like going all criminal on us!" She said, putting her hands on her hips.

I rolled my eyes. "Pfft. Whatever. It's not like we don't keep equaling out anyways. Besides," I continued, doing the math quickly in my head. "Your math is wrong. We're one player ahead, you have nothing to worry about." I calmly sipped from my mug of coffee and watched indifferently as she stomped away.

* * *

Later, we found ourselves on the dock as Chris explained to us what our challenge was for today. "So. Last week's challenge exposed a few Gopher issues, and I'm sensing something a little funky floating in the Bass pond too..." At this point I could almost feel Courtney's glare on the back of my head. "So, this week's challenge is gonna be centered around building trust, because all good things begin with a little trust." He said, smiling at us all. After a short pause, he said, "There will be three major challenges that will have to be completed by two or more members of your team." He carried on as I rolled my eyes. Honestly, how much longer was he going to carry on with this?

He carried on with it. "Normally, we like to have the campers choose their partners, but not this time." He said smugly, sounding proud of himself. More fun for me!" He said. Then the cameras shut off, and he said, "Follow me to our first challenge location."

We followed him for a while. At one point during the walk, Courtney's hand bumped into mine, and I couldn't tell if it was on accident or on purpose. Whichever, I turned around to see her blush, then fall back about three steps behind me, and look anywhere but at me. Her reaction led me to believe it was an accident, but I was unsure of myself, as I'd been since the food challenge. Was I reading too much or not enough? It was easiest for me and my resolution to continue acting as if she didn't like me, so I just decided it was an accident and left it at that.

When we reached the challenge location, the camera crew set up, and as they did, Chris prepared his voice by completing a series of vocal exercises. We all gave him a strange look, to which he got incredibly defensive and said, "What? I have a sore throat! I'm not gonna sound all scratchy on national TV, okay?"

Then, the camera crew gave him the heads up, and the challenge began with Chris explaining the rules of the first part.

"Okay. So for the first challenge, you'll be doing an extreme, free-hand, rock-climbing adventure!" He said, gesturing towards the cliff in front of us. "DJ and Duncan will play for the bass, Heather and Gwen for the Gophers." From the ground in front of him, placed there before the take began, he picked up a rope and harness and tossed them to Heather and Gwen. "Here's your belay and harness."

On the Gopher side, Heather snatched the belay and harness from Gwen, who shouted, "Hey! What's your damage?"

"If you think I'm letting you hold me up, you're nuts!" She said snottily.

"You won't be holding her up exactly..." Chris said. We all turned to look at him, and for once, I paid special attention. If I was going to be competing in this challenge, I definitely didn't want to miss out on a piece of crucial information. "One camper pulls the slack through the belay as their partner climbs. If the climber falls, the belay will stop them from crashing." He said, and tossed me the slack. I pulled on it, to find that it wasn't going anywhere; the climber would be completely safe as long as there wasn't enough slack for them to reach the ground. "The catch? Both the side and the base of the mountain are rigged with a few minor distractions, like... rusty nails, slippery oil slicks, mild explosives, aaaaand a few other surprises."

"Wicked!" Harold said. I rolled my eyes. Sure, **he** would think it was cool. He wasn't the one who might have to climb, or else hold up a dude much bigger than he was.

"The person on belay must also harness their partner up. It's all about trust people. And, remember, **never** let go of the rope! Your partner's life depends on it." He finished dramatically.

"Excuse me!" Gwen raised her hand. "Can we trade partners? I really don't feel like being dropped on my head today." She said, giving Heather a dirty look.

Heather just scoffed. "Puh-lease! As much as I **love** your company, I'm not going to through a challenge just to kill you... yet." She added at the end, making Gwen look possibly more apprehensive than before. But Heather just pulled the rope taut and said, "Now spread 'em."

* * *

After a few minutes, Chris gave DJ and I another harness and belay. DJ stepped into the harness, and pulled it up himself, much to my relief. As I tightened the harness enough to keep him safe, DJ made light conversation, to possibly keep things as un-awkward as possible. "I never tried this before, have you?"

"Oh yea," I said sarcastically, attaching the belay to the harness. "They teach you how to climb walls in prison all the time." Just as I finished my sentence, a tiny, furry head popped out of DJ's pocket. DJ took the small bunny out of his pocket, and said, "Ah, sorry little buddy. You can't come up with me. You can trust Geoff. He's my buddy." DJ told the rabbit. "Yo Geoff! Hold Bunny while I'm on the rock." He handed the rabbit to DJ as I walked towards the rope. "Thanks, G," he said, before following me over.

Out of sight of the camera, some guy came over to DJ to check that the harness and belay were completely secure before giving a thumb's up to a guy at the top of the mountain. A rope fell to the ground, and it was to this rope that DJ's belay was tied. The entire concept made me think that I could pull DJ to the top of the cliff… before I realized that he was heavier than me, and if he were to let go of the cliff, and I were caught unawares, we'd both go flying, in completely opposite directions. I gulped as I realized that DJ's letting go, especially with all the distractions, was a very real possibility. For Gwen and Heather, at least it would be easier, because they had to weigh roughly the same. But DJ was substantially bigger than me, and I would have a hard time holding him up if he were to suddenly fall.

However, before I had the chance to voice my concern, the cameras were rolling, and DJ was already climbing. I grabbed onto the rope for dear life, and dropped the slack to the ground so I could step on it. It was still all me, but I figured the strength in my arms and the strength in my legs combined could at least keep him up long enough for him to grab a ledge again.

Our first "surprise" was Chris, at the base of the mountain. He had a big water gun, and from the look of it, it was filled with hot sauce. Luckily for me, he sprayed Heather first, who let go of the rope supporting Gwen before Gwen could grab a solid ledge. Gwen fell all the way to the ground, which wasn't that far considering how far she'd fallen at first. I had enough time to put on my sunglasses, which would block the hot sauce, before he sprayed me, and by the time he did, I was able to open my mouth wide enough to eat more of it. I smirked, and licked my lips. "Is that the best you can do?"

* * *

Gwen quickly caught up to DJ again, which didn't surprise me. She was smaller and lighter than DJ, and although DJ had strength enough to pull himself, he also had a harder time finding ledges that would do the same. More than once he had to retreat back down the cliff and go up another way, whereas Gwen was able to step anywhere and make a base off of it. Plus, DJ was very nervous. He was climbing slowly, obviously having realized the same thing I did; if he fell, there wasn't much hope of me catching him and supporting him for very long.

Our second surprise was one that Chris hadn't anticipated; Heather. Apparently, she had tied a second rope to Gwen's shorts, and had been planning the whole time to pull them off, which is exactly what she did. I raised my eyebrows, and momentarily let go of the rope to take off my sunglasses.

"Well," I said to Chris, grinning, mildly impressed by Heather's devilish prank. "You don't see that everyday." I grinned.

"No, you don't, my man." Chris agreed, probably just as impressed. "No, you don't."

What I also hadn't seen was how the remaining half of Gwen's shorts would fall onto DJ's face. And how, when he realized this, would freak out and let go of the ledge... while I wasn't hanging onto the rope. When I saw the rope whizzing by me, I looked down at my foot, to notice that the rope was tied just so around my ankle to allow me to be dragged up while DJ was pulled down.

What resulted, after a very fast couple of seconds, was a very loud SMACK, and a lot of pain. Our heads collided, then fell to hit the rock beside us. I groaned, and said, "Ugh. This bites." I heard DJ groan behind me, and said, "Big time."

Above us, I heard Gwen gasp, then say, "Aaah, screw it" before continuing up the cliff while DJ and I were incapacitated. Before someone had time to fix us, Gwen reached the top of the mountain.

* * *

When DJ and I were finally safe back on the ground, I saw Courtney glare at me fiercely before my view of her was blocked by someone I assumed was a paramedic.

"Are you alright, son? Dizzy? Headache? Can you talk?" He asked me, while I head another medic ask DJ the same thing. I shook my head.

"I'm fine. My head is sore, and my ankle's killing me, but I think I'll live." I said, before pushing my way past him to his dismay. He called back to me, but I ignored him, instead opting to head towards Courtney, who, after seeing me coming, turned around and walked in the other direction.

I told myself it was only because I wanted to know what her problem was. I managed to convince myself it wasn't because I wanted to talk to her that I was chasing after her. It was a plausible excuse. The inner voice had nothing to say; it believed me, apparently.

Courtney hurried up, so I ran after her, grabbing her shoulder, and spinning her around. "Hey, what was with that glare back there? You got a problem with me, or something?" I asked casually, and slightly defensive. I was extra careful to be as casual as possible. No reason to try so hard anymore.

She just glared. "How'd Gwen's underwear look? Must have been pretty great from your angle." She said, before stomping away, leaving me completely shocked. That's what she was angry about? Because I thought the trick Heather pulled was funny? I frowned. She shouldn't have been so surprised. If DJ and I weren't friends, I would have easily done the same to him.

'_Maybe she's jealous..._' The inner voice said. However, I quickly and harshly put him down, saying that that was impossible. The inner voice sighed, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of big glasses like it had before. '_Looks like we're back to square one..._' I heard him say, before he faded out. I frowned. No. The inner voice was wrong. Courtney, jealous, over me? No chance.

* * *

I watched from the sidelines as DJ climbed slowly up the mountain, impatient and slightly irritated by how slow he was going. Didn't he know that he would lose if he didn't hurry up?! I wanted to call out to Duncan to suggest he just pull DJ, but then Heather would hear, and do the same, and, let's face it, Gwen is lighter than DJ.

Then, suddenly, I heard Heather shout maliciously, "What's the matter, Gwen? You don't want to fall **behind**, do you?" Then, a very loud tearing sound could be heard over all else, and I looked up to see that Gwen's shorts had been completely torn off. I gasped, and immediately glared at Heather.

Then, I looked at Duncan to see his reaction to see that he was... grinning. And staring up at her. And without a moment's pause, I felt my insides turn black with rage. I felt jealous green flames burn everything, and all I could see was red. I balled my fists, and clenched my teeth and almost let out what I was sure would have been a fierce growl... before, in the same instant, I realized how suspicious I would look. I took a deep breath and relaxed my fists and jaw. I felt the jealous flames abate to small embers of hatred, and I instead took on a fierce glare.

I had lost. I wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point over the last few days, I'd lost any chance I had with Duncan before I even had a chance to try. I frowned. It had only been a couple days ago that I finally admitted that I liked him, and that had been completely accidental…

**_--Flashback--_**

_I turned around to find Duncan barely a whole step behind me. I jumped, almost dropping my glass. I glared at him out of annoyance, irritated more by the fact that I hadn't heard or sensed him behind me than that he'd snuck up on me. However, despite my glare, he grinned, and I felt my face go blank. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're kind of creeping me out." I admitted, sounding matter-of-fact._

_"You like me." He said, just as matter-of-fact as I'd been. I raised an eyebrow, and started to protest, but he just lifted his hand and put his finger to my lips. I felt my face start to go red. "I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it." He moved closer, and, feeling trapped, tried to move back, only to run into the table. I leaned back over it, but he still leaned forward to put his face near mine, his finger still on my mouth. "Why don't you just admit it? I'll tell you if you'll tell me." He bargained._

_Immediately, I thought, 'SAY IT!' Then it occurred to me that I didn't know what to say. "I..." I started, my thoughts telling me two different things. Half of my mind was saying, 'I LIKE YOU!' But the other half was saying, 'GET OUT OF MY SPACE! I DON'T LIKE YOU!' "I..." I stammered again. He moved just slightly closer, and I spoke the first thought that came to mind. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said mechanically, and immediately after felt strangely disappointed. Then I exhaled a breath that I didn't know I was holding. "Would you please get out of my personal space, Duncan?"_

_He shut his eyes and inhaled before stepping back. I straightened up, away from the table, and turned to find that I'd moved the table back a little bit. I straightened it out, before turning back to him, to find him slightly hunched over with his hands in his pocket. "I'm uh..." He started, sounding a little husky and embarrassed. After clearing his throat, he continued. "Gonna head back to the cabin."_

_I nodded. "Yea, me... me too." He nodded, and we headed back to the cabin._

_Once we got to the cabin, which didn't take very long, he said "Night," and I felt this strange urge to go over and kiss him. So surprised, I barely managed to squeak out a "night" before scampering like a small animal back to my cabin, I stormed in and headed straight to my bunk. Bridgette and Sadie looked at me funny before carrying on with their conversation, oblivious to me and my plight._

_I liked Duncan. I wanted to cry, and shout for joy all at once. All the evidence supported that theory. The fact that I didn't want him to get kicked off. How I always blushed or else got angry when he or anyone else suggested that I liked him. How I always seemed to enjoy talking to him, when he was being civil, and sometimes even when he wasn't. It explained the funny feeling in my stomach when I thought about him, and the blush that threatened to stain my cheeks when he and I were near each other. It definitely explained my panicked thoughts earlier, and it could only explain why I would want to kiss him after he said goodnight earlier._

_I liked Duncan. That was for sure. My only problem would be what I would do next._

**--End of Flashback--**

So now, I wasn't sure what to do. I liked him, and I knew that he liked me at one point. But I had done something to make him not like me anymore. And now, I had no idea what I could do to fix this.

* * *

After I'd confronted Courtney, I did my best to stay away from her. Obviously, she was mad at me for laughing at Gwen, and even though I didn't like her and didn't want to like her, I didn't want her angry at me, either, because an angry Courtney meant an intolerable next couple of days. Since I'd gotten in my part of the challenge, I didn't go see what the last two challenges were. Instead, I stayed in the cabin, and laid on my bed listening to my iPod.

I wasn't sure how I was feeling. I hadn't really had much in terms of emotions since I stopped liking Courtney. There was a little sadness, and some confusion. Definitely a touch of disappointment, and a little anger from earlier. But it all felt as if it had to pass through a filter before it hit me, or something; as if it was all toned down. I wondered if that explained the numb feeling I got when an emotion wasn't forefront.

At one point during my musing, Geoff came into the cabin, looking seriously panicked. I raised half of my eyebrow, and paused my music. "Dude, what's up?" I asked him, propping myself up onto my elbows.

Geoff bit his lip. "It's DJ, man. You know that rabbit he found when we were out in the woods that one time for that challenge?" I nodded. "Well, he told me to take care of it, and earlier, when me'n Bridge were going for a swim, I put it on the lifeguard seat when a snake came and ate it, and then an eagle came and carried the snake away! And now I don't know what to tell DJ! If he finds out I killed his rabbit, he's gonna freak!" Geoff looked almost like he was about to cry.

Here, I was presented with a dilemma. I had an opportunity for some (albeit undeserved) vengeance. I could easily go to DJ and tell him what Geoff did to his rabbit, as a way to spite Geoff for rubbing his relationship with Bridgette in my face. It would be so easy, too. A victimless crime. And then I could go back to how I intended to go into this contest; friendless. I could act as if nothing had happened.

As the thought occurred to me, though, I felt overwhelmingly disgusted with myself. How could I do that to a friend? Was I really that awful? Had all that time in juvie really turned my soul that black that I could even consider spiting someone who had never really intentionally wronged me? I scowled. Geoff looked taken aback by my change in expression.

"I'm sorry to hear that, dude. I don't really know what you could do to fix this. I gotta go." I said, out the door before I finished the statement. I left my iPod behind.

I headed straight for the forest. It had become a sort of safe haven to me since the show began, and now I looked at it more as a refuge than a place to spend time. So obviously, as torn up as I felt, the forest was my first spot. I immediately looked for my favorite tree, not even needing my markers to find the place. My feet had memorized that pattern, and followed it first and foremost, even if I didn't want to go there. I spent barely ten minutes there before deciding what I had to do. I had to atone for my sins, somehow. I wasn't really religious (I guess you could call me Agnostic), but whether it was a God or some sort, or karma, or whatever, I had to make it up somehow. I had to prove to myself that I wasn't so cruel as to do something so awful to Geoff. I had to make sure I was human.

It didn't take me long to come up with something I could do. I put myself in DJ's position, and realized that I'd felt that before. Smiling, I hopped down from my tree branch and headed to the kitchen, where I was certain to come across—

"What do you want, boy?!" Chef barked at me across the lodge. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the floor and leaned against the window into the kitchen.

"Can I have a few carrots?"

Chef just gave me a crazy look. "What do you want carrots for?!"

I shrugged. "Hungry. Didn't eat a lot of breakfast, because I wasn't hungry then." Then I changed the subject. "So, can I have some or not?"

Shaking his head, Chef went to the Fridge and grabbed a few carrots. He handed it to me, giving me a strange look, before going back to his work. I put them in my pocket and walked back to the woods.

Now all I had left was to find one...

* * *

As it turns out, finding a rabbit isn't that hard. I broke a carrot into little pieces and left the pieces laying out on the ground by a tree. Then I left to head over to watch the next challenge while the bait lay for the taking.

"And now, the blind trapeze!" Chris shouted excitedly, gesturing to a large wooden frame in front of us. "To avoid serious injury, the trapeze has been set up over this pond... which is full of jellyfish." He finished, to gasps from the peanut gallery. That just made him smile. "You two will stand blind-folded on the platform until your partners tell you when to jump." He said, handing Heather and Bridgette a blind-fold.

"And then?" Heather asked, looking and sounding a little nervous. Bridgette looked even worse.

"Then, hopefully, they'll catch you. Or else that's gonna be one heck of a painful swim!" He said, chuckling at the pond that sparked with electricity. Bridgette went even paler. "Okay, hut hut!" He said, gesturing for Bridgette, Heather, Harold and Lindsay to take their positions.

After the four competitors were set, I heard DJ turn to Geoff and said, "So yo, where's Bunny at?"

Geoff paused and said, "Uh... I forgot, I put him... at... uh.... There were these, uh..." The Geoff sighed. "He's not with us anymore." Seeing the pained look on DJ's face, he quickly amended. "He, uh... hopped away?" Then, sounding more sure of himself, said, "But I'm sure he'll be back." Then he looked sad. "Sorry, dude."

DJ was quick to forgive. "Nah. It's not your fault, man." Looking sad, DJ started to walk away, saying, "Bunny... we were such good friends." Then he looked up and the sky and spread his arms. "Bunny! Why'd you do me like this?!" I felt a little queasy watching this, because it brought back memories of an old dog of mine. I was now more resolved than ever to find DJ a new bunny.

I returned to the bait I'd placed only ten minutes before, and was delighted to find several bunnies chomping happily on the carrot pieces. They really were adorable, I could see why DJ loved his so much. I took another carrot out of my pocket, and broke a small piece off. I looked at them all and picked out the one that looked the most like DJ's. Deciding, I picked one and threw a small piece of carrot at it.

The bunny literally jumped over his friends before turning back around to see a harmless piece of carrot. It hopped over and started eating it, and I poked the carrot out of the bush I was hiding behind so that it could see it. The bunny hopped over and started nibbling on it. Carefully, I grabbed it so as not to make it freak out, and carried it with me back to my cabin, passing the medical tent on my way.

Back at my cabin, I put the bunny on DJ's bed, and let it sniff around so it knew who I was giving it to. I didn't want it to be afraid of DJ either, and even though DJ had a way with animals, I didn't want to take the chance. DJ would be more than a little suspicious of all of a sudden Bunny started acting afraid of him.

After a while, I figured the final competition would be over, and I could find DJ alone so I could give him the rabbit without anyone realizing that I was capable of being that sickly-sweet-nice to anybody. Helping a friend through a rough patch was one thing, but finding a dude a new bunny? That's not cool at all.

When I arrived at the site of the final competition, though, I realized three things. One being that the game was still going one. Two, that the competitors were Geoff and DJ. And three, DJ wasn't putting forth any effort at all, and I knew that it had something to do with Bunny. So, despite that if anybody found out I purposely hunted down a new bunny, I would forever be marked as a "nice guy," I called out to DJ. "Hey, DJ! Look who I found!" I shouted loudly, holding the small bunny in my hands above my head. DJ pulled the blindfold off, and, upon seeing Bunny (or at least, a rabbit he assumed was Bunny), smiled a smile so large I was surprised his face didn't cleave in two.

Then, looking determined, he pulled the blindfold back over his eyes, and, at the end of it, won us the challenge. The first thing he did was come over to me and take the bunny out of my hands, and spin it around. I smiled, but hid it in a smirk, as he said, "Thanks, Duncan. You're the best."

I shrugged. "Whatever, man. It's just a stupid rabbit." He said. I wandered off, away from the group, putting my hands in my pockets, when I heard, "I can't believe you found a new bunny for DJ! You're a good guy." In a very familiar voice.

I turned around to see Courtney smiling a strange smile at me, almost as if I'd never done anything bad in her eyes to begin with. But I frowned. How did she know?! Then my thoughts turned from 'how' to 'now what?' "What? No I'm not."

She just kept smiling. "You are! You're actually... nice."

My only defense was to keep denying it, and I couldn't look at her. Her smile just made me sad, because I couldn't like her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you do it, Duncan." She said smugly.

Urgh, she was a witness! "Whatever! It wouldn't leave me alone! Weird rabbit." I scoffed, trying to at least pass it off as its fault, but not even that would fool her. She just stood there, looking smug with her arms crossed and a proud smile. Eventually, I gave in. "Okay, fine, I did it! Are you happy now?" She smiled wider, and I took that as a yes. However, there was still one thing we needed to clear up. "Listen, don't tell anybody, okay? I don't want them to think that I'm... soft or anything." I admitted sheepishly.

"Your secret's safe with me." She said, walking away, smiling broadly, and walking back towards everybody else. I stood there for just a second, and felt, very acutely, every feeling I had for her come back, increased tenfold.

It was such a rush! It was like, one minute, I'm numb and cold. Then the next... it was sort of like if somebody poured hot soup straight into my stomach. It filled me, and warmed me from my head to my toes, and ran to every space in between.

And just like before, I had to be near her, only this was different. Before, it was something I could just pass off, easily ignorable. But now, it was almost a physical need to be around her, as if every step she took away from me was a piece of me breaking off, still attached to her in a long chain. So I followed her back to the group, and, try as I did to look menacing, I don't think it worked. I could only look irritated at best.

"And the Bass are the winners of the toboggan race!" Chris shouted victoriously. We all cheered behind him, proud of DJ and Geoff for taking the win for us. However, our cheering was cut short as Chris said, "Unfortunately, I said that these were **blind** challenges. By taking off the blindfold for a moment, you broke the number one rule. Which makes the Gophers today's big winners!"

Immediately, the Gophers started to cheer in our stead, while we all stood around, feeling awkward, but none more so than DJ. In fact, he looked pretty down. I walked over to him and clapped him on the back. "Hey, don't sweat it, man. It's not your fault." I said, before heading back to our cabin.

However, on the way, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Surprised, (and half-hoping it would be Courtney), I turned around to see Geoff. He had a huge grin on his face. "Dude, you found DJ a new rabbit?" I rolled my eyes and nodded. Geoff clapped me on the back. "Good man! Thank you so much, bro, I don't know what I would have done if I had to tell DJ it was my fault his bunny died."

I shrugged. "Yea, well, I just found it in the woods, and figured he'd probably be happier with a replacement than none. It wasn't like I went out of my way for it or anything."

Skeptical though he looked, Geoff had no grounds to judge whether or not I was lying, and therefore left it at that. "Alright. Well, thanks again, dude. I'm gonna go head back and hang with Bridge. I owe you one, man!" He shouted over his shoulder back at me.

I watched Geoff run to Bridgette for a few minutes before I suddenly realized that I wasn't jealous of Geoff anymore. And maybe it had something to do with the crazy influx of feelings I had earlier (that, try as I might, still wasn't going away or fading), but I was suddenly hopeful for my relationship with Courtney. And not just hopeful; I was confident, too. Suddenly, it was like, I knew what I had to do. So I sat on the porch of the cabin, and waited for her to come back.

I wasn't surprised that she was the first one to return from the meadow where the challenge had been held. In fact, judging by her recent behavior towards me, I'd expected it.

When I saw her coming, I smiled at her, and waved her over. Cocking her head to the side, she approached me, and said, "Can I help you with something?"

I nodded, and stood up, too. I wasn't sure why. I just couldn't sit down when I asked her. It felt so impersonal, almost as casual as I'd been acting the past few days. "Do you want to hang out with me tomorrow after lunch?" I made sure to say it in the right tone, to make it sound like a friend thing, and not like a date. Because I realized something; Courtney was proud. She was so proud that she wouldn't let someone make decisions for her, and that was why she was always denying it when I told her she liked me. I could still say it, but it wouldn't get anywhere with her. It wouldn't convince her any more than it would dissuade her. And I had to use her pride to my advantage, and let her make the first move towards establishing a relationship as more than friends.

However, Courtney was also mildly self-conscious, and though she did her best not to let that show, it still showed enough to indicate to me that she would only let out what would eventually come back in; she would only befriend me if I made it clear to her that I wanted to be friends. She would only ask to go out with me if I made it clear to her that I wanted to go out with her. And that was my plan; to prove to her that I was not a lost cause. To show her that I wasn't the same person she met a few weeks ago. And to show her that I would return anything she dished out, whether it be sarcasm, insults, or in the best case scenario, love.

I wasn't surprised when she agreed to hang out with me. And I wasn't surprised that she didn't push me away when I gave her a hug goodnight. And I wasn't surprised that I feel asleep that night in the best mood I'd ever been in. And I wasn't surprised to wake up feeling excited and hopeful and, most of all, happy.


	22. In Which We Hang Out With Courtney

**A/N:** WOO! Chapter twenty-two! WOOOO!! Ohmygoodnessohmygoodness. Do you guys even know what's next? DO YOU? I don't think you do!!

BASIC STRAINING IS NEXT. I'M SO EXCITED AND I JUST CAN'T HIDE IT. :D

I'm so excited. I've been looking forward to writing this chapter forever. It's all I've been thinking about. It's all I've been living for.

But before I can let you go and read the last chapter before Basic Straining, I've been getting a lot of questions lately, and I'd like to address them now, while I have all of your attention. ...I DO have your attention, right?

Anyways.

**Question 1.) Are you going to write the chapters after Basic Straining? I hope you do!  
**I hope I do, too. Therefore, I'm going to. So, yes. I will be writing the chapters after Courtney gets voted off.

**Question 2.) Are you following canon and having Courtney get das boot?  
**Unfortunately, yes. I strictly follow canon, unless it has something to do with a direction my stories took like with omitting a few lines and subbing in new ones like last time. Therefore, yes. Courtney will be getting the boot. But we all know that Duncan gets voted off, too. So, naturally, I will be writing the chapters in between their elimination.  
HOWEVER, I will be omitting the filler chapters until they're reunited. Mainly because Duncan sans Courtney is like salad sans red cabbage. Not as great.

**Question 3.) Violin...?  
**I don't know yet. Maybe. After Basic Straining, I'm going to have to sit down and seriously plot out the rest of the series until Are We There, Yeti?

**Question 4.) Aren't you busy with exams coming up?**  
Actually, that's never been asked. I just thought I'd include it to explain to you why the chapter after Basic Straining won't be for a while.

**Question 5.) Are you going to do Total Duncan Duncan Duncan Duncan Island, Total Duncan Action, and it's hopefully just as awesome third season, Total Drama Musical?  
**TDDDDI, yes. Everything else? Maybe. I don't know yet. Depending on certain circumstances (level of interest at that point, other projects I want to work on, my feelings regarding how my time is spent during summer vacation, &c.), I may not do TDA and TDM. There's an equal amount of chance for yes and no. I may do it, and just wait long period of time in between updates (longer than they are already, which actually IS possible), but I don't want to do that, because that's just not fair to the readers.  
So it's a wait and see kind of thing.

Okay. So there's that.  
I just have a few things to say regarding the chapter, and then we'll have the countdown, and then you're free to go. :)

For one thing, this chapter isn't the best. That's because I'm nowhere near as focused on this chapter as I should have been. What I may or may not have told you guys in the past, I wasn't letting myself start on Basic Straining until it was time for Basic Straining, so I was just as excited to get here as you were.  
Therefore, my level of focus on this chapter was nowhere as high as it ought to've been. Kay? :)

Next thing is, I don't speak perfect French, and we all know how awful online translators are. Therefore, any awful French you may come across in this chapter, please excuse. There will be a translation as long as you keep reading. Just know that this is important.

Third. The information I put in this chapter is by no means correct. This chapter is purely fan-based. What I wanted to be a fact is, for this fan-fic, a fact. :)  
Except for one thing, but I'll put that at the end.

One more note: I sincerely, sincerely apologize for the length of this Author's Note. We're almost done. I swear. Now, just the--

**COUNTDOWN TO BASIC STRAINING: ONE!!!! :D**

* * *

I woke up the next morning excited beyond belief. It was a nice day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, I had a date to look forward to after lunch today. '_It's not a date, Duncan. You're just hanging out as friends._' The inner voice amended me paternally. I scoffed, and rolled my eyes, and grinned at him. '_Whatever._' I thought. '_It might as well be a date. We both like each other. It's so obvious._'

For the whole morning I felt like I was floating on air. It felt like one minute, I was in my cabin, then the next, I was taking a shower. The next time I thought about it, I was dressed and styling my hair. And then I was back in the cabin, waking up the guys. Normally, I didn't bother getting them up, and if they missed breakfast, it was no skin off my nose. But this morning, excited as I was, I decided to get the guys up so that they could hopefully experience as wonderful a day as this.

However, they weren't anywhere near as excited to start the day as I'd been. I could understand why; none of them had as much to look forward to as I did. However, despite their sluggish groans, I yelled and kicked their beds until they all shuffled out of their beds and into clothes, or the showers.

While they were preparing for the day, I sat up in my bunk and tried to compose myself. It wouldn't do to be as freakishly happy where Courtney could see. She already thought I was freakish enough, what with the hair and the piercings and the music. I didn't need her worrying that I'd turn into a stalker or something. That would only keep her away, and I wanted more than anything for her to be close.

'_Duncan?_' The inner voice asked. '_I think you love her._' He said. I thought about that for a while. It definitely made some sense. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wanted to be near her, always. I'd made so many efforts to stay in this game only for her benefit. And whenever I thought about her, I was happy, no, ecstatic. My stomach knotted and I wanted to pull her to me, to kiss her, to hold her hand, to be with her, all the time. She was all I saw, and all I thought about. Was that what love was?

* * *

As a group, we Bass boys entered the Main Lodge shortly before Chef opened the window to the kitchen, and, as a result were the first ones in line. I was first, then Geoff, DJ, and then Harold. Just as Chef opened the window, Courtney, Bridgette and Sadie came in. Noticing this, I turned to Geoff and said, "You know what? I think I'm gonna go get some coffee instead. You guys can go ahead of me."

Looking confused, Geoff stepped up in the line with his tray while I took mine to the counter on which the coffee-maker sat. The girls set their stuff down and I hurriedly put my coffee on my tray and got back in line in front of Courtney before she managed to get in the line.

My attempts at being subtle apparently weren't as subtle as I thought. She came up to me, grinned, and rolled her eyes. "Really classy, Duncan."

I just grinned back. "What can I say? I'm a classy guy." For just a second, we stood there, eyes locked, grinning at each other, before I realized how embarrassing that looked. I shook my head and blinked rapidly, and said, "Uh, so... are we still hanging out today after lunch?"

She nodded. "Yup. I don't really see what would prevent that. There's not exactly a whole lot going on here." She said jokingly.

I laughed. Maybe a little too much, but not so much that it would have been weird. Such was my joy that anything that came out of her mouth sounded good to me. "Yea, I guess not."

After that, it was my turn to be served, so I offered my tray to Chef, who plopped a big lump of something brown ("It's a sausage and cheese omelet" he called it) on my tray, and then glared at Courtney. For some reason, seeing him glare at Courtney like that made a strange, protective feeling rise, fast. I felt the need to step in and divert his attention, so I said, "Sausage and cheese omelet? You sure?"

"Boy, if you don't sit'cher butt down and eat yer food **now**, I can make it so that nobody gets **any**. Would **that** make you happy?" He snapped. I held up my arms in as much of a surrender pose as I could with a tray in my hands. Courtney, having no excuse to stay once Bridgette and Sadie were served, left, which meant that I had no excuse to stay either.

"No, no. No problems here." I said quickly, hurriedly returning to my table, taking my seat next to Geoff. Courtney was, again, diagonal to me; Sadie across from me, and Bridgette next to her, across the table from Geoff. DJ was on my other side, and Harold was on the other side of Geoff. We kept catching each other's eyes, then smiling, and looking back at our food. On my part, I couldn't help it. An unexplainable feeling settled in my stomach every time I looked at her, and it was a good feeling. The feeling increased when she was smiling. I liked it, a lot. Geoff and Bridgette passed knowing looks back and forth that neither Courtney nor I caught; it seemed like they knew before we did that finally, at long last, we would admit it.

* * *

After breakfast, I had to stay in my cabin for fear of doing something stupid. I was feeling a little light-headed in anticipation. It just felt so surreal. Just yesterday I'd given up on Courtney, and now, here I was, halfway in love with her and about to hang out with her, just the two of us. And who knew what would happen, then? Would she admit it to me today? Would today finally, finally be the day?

I ended up lying on my bed, with my headphones over my ears but not listening to any music, just trying to stop my heart from beating so fast, and trying to calm my quaky stomach. It was proving to be in vain, though, because, even several hours later when Geoff came in and told me to "get my butt out of bed 'cause it's time for lunch," my stomach was, if possible, shakier, and my heart was beating a mile a minute. What was worse was that I couldn't get the stupid grin off my face, the one that said, "Hello. My name is Duncan, and I'm overeager to get to know you better." Geoff noticed the grin, and said, "What's up, man? You have a date or something?"

"Not a date exactly." I said, emphasizing the word exactly. "Me and Courtney are hanging out after lunch today." I said, grinning as we walked towards the Main Lodge. There wasn't anybody else around, so I assumed I was running a little late.

Geoff looked enlightened. "So** that's** why she was so worried about you not being there."

I gave him a sideways look. "What?"

Geoff nodded. "Yea. When me'n DJ came in, she came up and asked us where you were. We told her we didn't know, and she asked me to go get you."

I was honestly surprised. I'd expected her to be excited about hanging out with someone other than Bridgette and Sadie (considering they were the only people she was spending time with since the game began), but to be concerned about my whereabouts like that? To be completely honest, it made me a little bit excited to know that she was probably just as eager as I was.

When I entered the Main Lodge, I immediately sought out Courtney, and found her already sitting at the table, her back to me. I stared for just as second at her hair (was it really that pretty, or had I just never noticed before?) Geoff and I got in the line and, upon receiving our food, went back and sat at the table. I sat across the table from Courtney, Geoff across from Bridgette like always, Sadie across from Harold. I smiled at Courtney when I sat down, and she blushed lightly before bowing her head to look at her food. She was unable to suppress a smile, and that just made my stomach knot even worse. I didn't eat a lot of lunch; the knots in my stomach messed up my appetite.

I ended up sitting there, toying with my food, occasionally looking at Courtney, and saw that she was looking at me too, like what was going on this morning. Only this time, we kept our gazes locked. I raised an eyebrow, challenging her, **daring** her, to break our gaze. She just smirked smugly, and kept staring. I gave her a small grin, and she blushed faintly, obviously trying not to. Eventually, her face got red enough for her to look back down at her food. I let out a small chuckle before turning back to my food. Geoff gave me a curious look, but I just shook my head. He wouldn't get it.

* * *

Lunch felt like it took forever.

I'd never been so excited for people to stop eating as I was then. The moment I saw people start to take up their trays, I stood up—and, strangely, Courtney stood up at the same time as I did. I looked at her with a strange look, then looked down at her tray to see that she had eaten about as much food as I did. I chuckled slightly, and proceeded to dump my tray before going back to the table and leaning against the end.

When Courtney came back from dumping her tray, she came and leaned against the table, right next to me. Our arms were touching, and the skin that was making contact with hers felt like it was burning. I was so tempted to put my arm around her, and pull her closer, and rest my head on hers.

The impulse hadn't quite faded when she asked, "So, you got any ideas for what you wanted to do today?"

I shrugged, which resulted in my arm rubbing hers. My skin burned. "I was thinking we could go down to the beach, or for a walk in the woods or something. I mean, there's not a lot going on here to really do, you know?" I quoted her from earlier. She nodded. I paused. I wasn't really sure which I preferred, so I asked, "Which would you prefer?"

She thought for a second (and her face made the cutest expression), before she said, "I think... I think I'd rather walk in the woods. It's kinda hot out today, if we sit around we'll get muggy." Her logic made sense, so I went to the kitchen and got two bottles of water. When I returned to her side, I handed her one of the bottles, and said, "Well, let's get going, gorgeous."

...Oops.

She stopped, and looked at me. Her face was beet red, and she looked shocked. "Gorgeous?"

I opened my mouth and thought for just a split second on how to cover up my faux pas. "Uh, yea, gorgeous. It's just a word, you know. Like 'pretty.' I think you're really pretty." My face was going red. I could feel it. I hadn't been thinking, and the word just slipped out. The expression on her face was making me nervous. Did I already blow it? Was she mad at me? She probably was, and I wouldn't blame her. God, Duncan, open mouth, insert foot! I wanted to smack my forehead, such was my frustration with myself. However, even though I was frustrated, I was a little proud, too. I **did** think she was pretty, and by telling her that, it couldn't have hurt my chances.

However, she just turned toward the door, face still redder than a fire truck, and walked. All she said was, "Thank you." After that, she didn't say anything, didn't indicate whether I should follow her or stay here, so I just followed her. I would have followed her either way; if she was going back to the cabin, I'd go too. If she was heading towards the forest, I would assume she wasn't totally freaked out and that we were still on for today.

Luckily for me, she was heading towards the forest. I was so relieved, I almost fell over.

* * *

Eventually, she completely forgot about the "gorgeous" incident, and we managed to have a pleasant afternoon. A few times we trailed off into an awkward silence, and a few times, we both started to talk at the same time, only to lead to an awkward, 'No, you go first' scenario, but we managed to have a good time regardless.

"So, Courtney, where are you from?" I asked her curiously.

"I live just outside of Toronto. You?"

"I'm from Quebec." I said casually. As I mentioned it, an image of my house flashed before my eyes. I shook my head. Focus, Duncan! You'll say something stupid!

"The city or the province?" She asked, looking at me as if scandalized.

I smirked smugly for a second before replying. "City."

I've always been proud of where I lived. My city was a beautiful one, rich in culture and full of interesting things to do or places to go or people to see. And sure we had the occasional annoying tourist that couldn't speak enough French or English to get out of a paper bag let alone a city, but it was a wonderful place to grow up, and I wouldn't have chosen any other place if I were given the choice.

Not to mention all the tagging I'd managed to get away with there. But that was beside the point.

Courtney looked at me, shocked, before saying, "So, wait. Do you speak French?"

I nodded, raising an eyebrow at her. I guess I wasn't surprised. I spoke near-perfect English, and didn't have a trace of an accent. Still, I acted as though this were obvious, and said, "Well, yea."

She grinned widely, and said, "Say something, then. I don't believe it."

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed, and said, in flawless French, "_Qu'est-ce que me voulez-vous pour dire?_"

The look on her face was worth it. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened, and she stood there for almost five whole seconds before showing any sign of life. I laughed, and, moving forward, raised my hand to her chin and shut her mouth. She blinked, and blushed slightly, and backed away.

"I'm not going to lie. I'm pretty impressed." She said, eyebrows high on her forehead, still looking shocked. "I mean, I'm taking French lessons, but I'm... nowhere near that good." She admitted. I could tell she didn't really want to.

I shrugged. "It's not like I had to learn it separately. My parents both speak French and English, and, since we live a city that attracts tourists, they thought it would be for the best to teach me both. So I grew up knowing French and English." I shrugged casually. Honestly, it wasn't a big deal. Most students in my school speak both. It's just a product of our environment.

She then looked amused. "So, what do you guys speak at home?" She asked curiously.

I shrugged. "Mostly English. That's why I don't have an accent. But my mom's French is better than her English, so sometimes we speak French instead. And when we go out to dinner or shopping or something, we speak French so people don't think we're tourists."

She nodded, working that all in her mind. Then she looked curious again. Almost insinuating this time. "So, if you speak fluent French, why didn't you ever tell anybody? You're not, like, embarrassed by it or anything, are you?"

I shook my head. "Nah, not really. Most kids speak French and English where I live, so it's not like it's dorky or anything." I shrugged again. "And the reason I never told anybody is because nobody ever asked. If I'm around people who speak English, I'm not gonna start saying stuff in French. That doesn't make sense."

She nodded, and asked me another question. "So, what did you say, anyways?"

I grinned. "I asked you what you wanted me to say."

* * *

Eventually, we decided to rest, and chose to climb a tree and sit in its branches. She was on a branch on the opposite side of the tree, and our backs were to the trunk. It wasn't a particularly large tree, so hearing her wasn't a problem. But she was out of my sight, and that made me uncomfortable, so instead, I opted to climb to the next limb up and laid down on mine, stomach to branch. From there, I could easily see her face, and I winked at her. Naturally, she blushed.

She kept asking me questions, and I kept giving her answers. It felt weird for her to ask me all these personal questions. It was weirder that I was oddly flattered by it. Flattered and very hopeful. She cared enough to ask me questions about my home life, even questions I'm sure she didn't want the answer to, like "how many girls have you gone out with;" that was an awkward one for me to answer, and if she hadn't sounded so falsely calm and unattached, I wouldn't have. But she did, so I answered her honestly, even though that made it temporarily awkward again.

After that familiar awkward pause, she asked, "So, Duncan..." She started, then trailed off. I looked at her curiously. "I'm curious...." She started again.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She bit her lip.

I grew a little impatient. Calmly, I said, "Just spit it out. What's up?"

"Uh... What are your parents like?" She asked, sounding curious and a little reluctant. I paused. Really? That was all she wanted to ask?

Then my thoughts flashed back to the last time we'd approached the subject of my family, and the grin fell off my face. She was thinking about the video from home, and my not-so-Duncan-like reaction to it. I wondered for a second how awkward she must have felt asking about it, and wondered if she felt bad for asking. Then I realized that the longer I stalled my answer, the more awkward she would feel.

"Well, first things first, both my parents are cops."

I barely got the sentence out before I heard Courtney choke. I looked down in alarm to see that she'd tried to hold back laughter, and I smiled. "You can laugh if you want. I think it's pretty funny, too. In fact, you might be even more amused by the fact that my entire family is full of police. Every single blood relative is a police officer." I grinned. She laughed.

"Really?" I nodded. "Oh my God, that's hilarious!"

I grinned wider. "I know. But that's not answering the question." I said. She slowly stopped laughing.

"Okay. Sorry. Continue. What are your parents like, Duncan?" She asked, still grinning widely.

"Okay, so, they're both cops. My mom's pretty cool. She's supportive, and strict with the rules she particularly wants to enforce."

"Like what?"

I grinned. She'd probably get a kick out of this one. "Like that we have to eat meals together." As I'd suspected, she laughed, but not as hard, and quickly allowed me to continue. "And that we have to be home by eleven. And that our homework has to be done before we can do anything with our friends."

"Our?"

"Me and my brothers."

"How many? How old are they?"

I smiled. "I have four brothers, three older, one younger. We're all two years apart. So, my youngest is fourteen, I'm sixteen, then eighteen, twenty and twenty-two. They all want to be cops like the rest of our family."

She nodded. "Okay, so keep going. You said your mom's strict about the rules she wants to enforce. Do you follow those rules?"

I tilted my head to the side. "Eh... she's pretty lenient with me as opposed to my younger brother, but still, I do follow those rules. I respect my mother. It's my father I..." I trailed off, allowing her to fill in the blank.

She paused a few seconds, then said, "So what's he like?"

I bit my lip for a second before answering. "He's stricter than my mom. If a rule gets broken in his presence, he'll flip out. Not that I ever listened to him." I rolled my eyes. "If he wasn't so uptight, I'm sure we'd be fine, but as it is, we don't exactly get along."

For a second, she opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, then bit her lip and thought better of it. I raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

She looked apprehensive before saying, "If I say this, promise not to get mad at me?"

I shrugged. "I don't think that'll be an issue." I don't think I could get mad at her if I tried. Irritated with, sure. Annoyed by, of course. But truly angry? Doubtful. Not anymore.

She sighed, and said quietly, "Well, maybe if you would stop breaking rules, you and your father would get along better, too. It's not a one way street, you know."

I smiled a wry smile. "Yea, well, what are you gonna do?" She looked momentarily relieved before asking me to keep going about my brothers.

I laughed. "Now there's something I could talk about. My brothers." I let out another short laugh. "They're sort of like me, only more mature and less attractive." I was joking about the last part, really, but Courtney chuckled.

"Ego, much?"

I grinned sarcastically. "Well, I can't help it that I was graced with such an amazing face." Then I winked at her. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Her face got very red, very fast. However, she rolled her eyes (and otherwise ignored it) and changed the subject. "So, keep going about your brothers."

For a second, I thought about pushing the subject further, but decided against it. We were doing so well today. I didn't want to ruin it. So I grinned, and said, "Well, even though they're studying to become cops, they do like to let loose sometimes. Like, sometimes, we'll get stuff from the store, and..."

I trailed off, telling her stories about things I'd done with my brothers, laughing and joking and enjoying myself. I couldn't remember ever being as happy with her as I was while discussing my brothers.

After I told her a particular story about my oldest brother and his senior class prank (which had involved a cape, a mile of plastic wrap, the school principal and a flagpole), I suddenly realized. For most of the afternoon, I'd been talking about myself. I hadn't asked her a single question.

So after we stopped laughing, I turned the tables. "So, Courtney, what about you?"

Courtney, still breathless from laughing, asked, "What about me?"

"You. Your life off of this island. Your family. What's going on with you?" I asked.

She shrugged. "My life's nowhere as interesting as yours is."

"I beg to differ." I said, spurring her to go on. "Where do you go to school?"

Her smile fell to a small half-smile. "Well, I live in Markham, which is just outside of Toronto, and go to Middlefield Collegiate Institute." I grimaced. That place just **sounded** oppressive. She looked at me curiously, obviously wondering about the look on my face.

"Sorry. Your school just sounds so... formal." I shuddered. I hated formality.

She chuckled. "Well, it's a really good school. They've got a really good music program, and a lot of Advanced Placement courses." She said.

I raised my eyebrows, looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Advanced Placement? Why would you want to do that?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes at me. "I wouldn't expect you to understand." She said frostily. I shrugged.

"Alright, so then, tell my about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

She shook her head. "Nope. It's just me and my mother and my father. My mother is a college professor, and my father is a doctor."

I nodded. "What are they like?"

She bit her lip. I'd learned by now that that didn't often mean something good. I waited anxiously for at least a whole minute before she said, "They're... well, they're pretty strict. I have to keep my grades up, and join extracurricular activities and play sports and take violin lessons and piano lessons and French lessons and watch the news with them at night and read one book every week, and... well..." She trailed off, smiling wryly. "They put a lot of pressure on me; that's all. But they only do it because they want for me to succeed, so that later in life I can be successful like they were."

I grinned. I figured Courtney must have gotten her competitiveness from someone. I'd always assumed she had an older brother or sister who was always doing better than her, but it turned out I was wrong. It also explained why she'd disliked me so much; I was the exact opposite of everything her parents ever taught her was right and good for her. If I wasn't busy feeling bad for her, I would have laughed.

"Don't they think that that's a little much?" I asked, feeling a little overwhelmed just thinking about it.

She shrugged. "If they do, they don't act like it. But honestly, it's not as big a deal as it sounds. It's one sport a season, three seasons a school year. Two violin lessons and two piano lessons a week for an hour a lesson. Three French lessons a week for an hour a lesson. And extracurricular activities never last for more than an hour after school." She tried to reason.

But her logic was still flawed. "So, then, sports practice every day, for, what, two hours a day?"

"Three." She answered.

I nodded. "Okay. Three hours a day. Add in your extra lessons, and that's roughly... what, an two extra hours already added onto that three hours a day? So, if your school ends at three, your practices and lessons go until about eight. The news starts then, and ends at nine. Then you have all your AP work to do. Plus that 'book a week' crap." I shook my head. "How do you **live**? When do you eat? Do you ever hang out with your friends?"

She shrugged. "All my friends belong to the same sports and clubs as I do. We hang out there."

I shook my head. "That's not the same. When you're hanging out with your friends, you're supposed to be **away** from school. That's the whole point! To go to the mall or go into the city or something! You can't do that if all you're ever doing is working." Now more than ever I felt pity for her. Her parents were slave-drivers! I could already tell I didn't like them. They'd brought up a child to think that all she ever had to do was work!

She shrugged. "Yea, well, they understand. A lot of their parents are the same way. And besides, it's really not as big a deal as you're making it out to be. At least now, when I apply for college, I'll have an interesting, well-rounded application, which is very important."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

She nodded. "Well, yea. Between a student with good grades and no extracurricular activities and a student with average grades and tons of extracurriculars, colleges always accept the latter. Therefore, they're bound to accept a student with good grades and tons of extracurriculars." She said practically.

I smirked. "Alright, then. Let's make a bet."

She raised an eyebrow. "A bet?"

I nodded. "Yea. We'll make a bet. I bet that I—with no extracurriculars and good enough grades—will manage to get into the same college as you, who has good grades and extracurriculars." I smirked at the expression on her face—she looked as if I'd poured ice-cold water on her.

"B-but I thought you're only allowed to apply to one college? What if you don't get in?!" She asked, completely shocked.

I shrugged. "If I don't get in, I don't get in. I can always find something else to do for a living." She continued to look shocked, so I frowned, and said, "Look. School isn't important to me. At all. I do well enough to allow me to get by. However, I'm good at a lot of things, so even if I don't get into college, I can always ask my parents to pull a few strings, and I can become a cop. No big deal." I shrugged.

She now looked completely affronted. "Would you honestly be happy like that?"

I shook my head. "Not one bit. But let's consider that what would happen if I were to lose." I grinned. "And if you lose, and I get into your college, you're not allowed to join any extracurriculars, and any time you would spend in an extracurricular would have to be spent hanging out with me instead." I grinned, and extended my hand to her. She was still shocked. "Do we have a deal?"

She bit her lip for a second, before sighing, and reaching up to grab my hand. "Deal." Then she grinned evilly. "Have fun being a cop."

I smiled. "Thanks. Have fun not joining any extracurriculars."

We sat there, grinning at each other for a minute before retracting our hands. She then tilted her head to the side, and said, "So, if you were to become a cop, what field would you be in?"

I laughed. "Do you even have to ask?"

She nodded, frowning. "I'm not that insightful, you know."

I smiled. "I'd become a juvenile parole officer."

* * *

We discussed the pros and cons of being a parole officer after that. She wanted to know exactly what a parole officer did, and I told her that they do a lot more work than one would imagine. After we were silent for a minute, she said, "So, okay. Let's for a minute humor the thought that you managed to get into my college. What would you study?"

I put a finger to my lips in consideration. That was a good question. What did I want to be, anyways? I could become a history teacher. That would be cool. But was that what I wanted? I ended up shrugging. "I dunno. Maybe education or history. I'm pretty good with history."

She nodded. Then I asked her another question. "So, what sports did you play, anyways?"

She smiled. "In fall, I played basketball. Winter is indoor track, and spring is soccer." She said resolutely.

I pictured that for a minute. First I pictured her in a basketball jersey and shorts. Then I pictured her in a track suit. Last, I pictured her in a soccer jersey, shorts, really high socks and cleats. She was adorable in all of them.

"Hmm. You know, I can't really picture that." I said, to cover up for my pause.

She shrugged. "I never pictured you'd be able to speak French. And to be honest, I can't picture you playing rugby, either. But I guess we can both be surprised."

I nodded. Instinctively, then, I looked at my watch, then jumped. Dinner started at five PM every day. It was currently five-forty. If we didn't hurry back, we'd miss dinner, and be late to the bonfire ceremony from the challenge yesterday. "Oh, crap!" I said, climbing haphazardly down from my branch to hers.

"What?!" She asked in alarm, jumping back to accommodate me.

"It's five-forty already! We lost track of time. Come on, we gotta get back!" I said, climbing down the tree-trunk swiftly.

Courtney's eyes widened, and she tried to be just as quick as I was. However, as she tried to move around her branch, her foot slipped, and she fell...

...Right on top of me.

In surprise, I'd shut my eyes. When I opened them, groaning, I immediately saw her face, **right** in front of mine, like in every cliché fall. She was so close I could have easily reached up and kissed her lips. It would have been so easy to blame it on the fall, too. But I didn't. I was better than that.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she registered the scene. Instead of moving off of me immediately, she blushed, and pushed herself away after a few seconds. "S-sorry." She said quietly. "My foot slipped, and... I couldn't catch my balance."

"Uh... it's... fine..." I said. My face felt hot. Could it be possible I'd been blushing? I shook my head. That wouldn't make sense. What did I have to be embarrassed about? "Um, come on. We gotta go get dinner. Are you okay?" I asked, standing up and then offering her my hand. She turned to face me, and her face was still red, and she nodded and took my hand, and I helped her up.

We ran through the woods towards camp as fast as we could. She ran just as fast as I did, which didn't surprise me. With the information I'd just received, it made sense. She **was** a track runner.

We made it back to camp by five to six, just before Chef stopped serving food. He looked at us suspiciously before giving us our trays. I glared right back, but Courtney avoided his gaze. I wanted to tell her that by avoiding his gaze, she just made herself more suspicious, but that would sound even **more** suspicious.

When we got back to the table, Geoff and Bridgette immediately asked, "Where were you guys?!"

Courtney just made herself look more suspicious by looking away, so I rolled my eyes and said, "We were hanging out in the woods. We got to talking and lost track of the time, so we ran back here."

They both looked at me suspiciously, and I rolled my eyes and groaned. "What? We didn't **do** anything if that's what you're wondering."

Bridgette looked at me suspiciously for a moment longer before turning back to her tray. I started eating really fast, trying to get in as much as possible without choking. Courtney, however, ate a few bites, and just played with her food for the last three minutes.

Barely seconds after I finished eating (I took Courtney's tray up for her; she wasn't eating anyways), Chris came in and brought us to the Bonfire Ceremony.

On the way there, I held Courtney back a little bit, and let everybody else go in front of us. When I was sure they wouldn't hear me, I said, "Hey, are you okay? You didn't eat a whole lot, and you were looking kind of..." I trailed off, not really sure what she was looking like. Unhappy? Nervous?

She looked away from me, and her face was slightly pink. "Nothing." She said quickly. "Just... I'm still kind of embarrassed about..."

Falling on me? "Don't worry about it. You lost your balance. I just happened to be where you fell. It wasn't like it was a big deal." However, despite my attempts at trying to reassure her, her face went even more red. I raised my eyebrow and shrugged.

When we reached the Bonfire pit, we were split up. I ended up sitting in between Bridgette (who was still giving me suspicious looks) and DJ. Courtney ended up on the end next to Sadie. I watched her closely, and saw her sigh before finally relaxing. I thought it was a strange time to finally relax, considering she didn't know if she was to be voted off yet.

Earlier in the day, I'd gone into the confessional and cast my vote for Sadie. It was nothing particular against her, but there wasn't anybody else on the island I would have voted for. Plus, from what I'd heard, she'd clocked Courtney in the head with an apple, and made her pass out, and that just didn't fly with me.

"Who wants a treat?" Chris started. "A tasty goody that represents exemption, security, peace of mind—"

Courtney sighed impatiently. "Just get on with it!" She said. I grinned. My heart was thumping loudly. I was surprised she couldn't hear it. I think I almost wanted her to.

Chris frowned. "And if you don't get a marshmallow you have to walk the Dock of Shame. And you can never come back." He said quickly, from behind Geoff. Geoff looked surprised. Then he got up in Courtney's face, and said, "Ever!" I frowned at him, and, my arms already crossed in front of my chest, clenched my fists. Then I saw the glare on Courtney's face and grinned.

From his podium, Chris picked up a marshmallow and said, "Let's see..." Then, throwing a marshmallow to each respective person, he said, "One for Duncan, one for Bridgette... one for Courtney." With skill I was unaware either of us had, we both caught the marshmallows in our mouths. Chris continued, throwing more marshmallows. "Geoff, DJ. Well done, my brothas."

Now, it was down to Harold and Sadie. I hid a smile. Honestly, between those two, it didn't matter to me who stayed or went. Then Chris said, "Looks like we only have one left. Sadie and Harold? The final marshmallow..." After that, there was an incredibly **long** pause.

"Come on already!" Courtney complained.

"Don't rush me!" Chris yelled. "The audience eats up this kind of dramatic conclusion!" Courtney sighed. Still frowning, he said, "Harold," and threw the marshmallow to Harold.

Sadie was mad. "You know what?" She asked, then stood up. "That's fine with me, you... marshmallow eating **freaks**!" Then, throwing up her arms, she ran away sobbing. I watched with a mildly interested expression.

"The rest of you are safe!" Chris said, sounding a little excited. "For now." He said, squinting, trying to psyche us out. It didn't really work. A few minutes later, Chris left us to the bonfire.

The remaining Bass hung out around the fire for a while. About half an hour after she'd left, we heard two shrill voices squeaking from the Dock of Shame. From where we were sitting, we couldn't see, but after exchanging glances, we all came to the same conclusion—

"Katie came with." I said flatly. Everybody else nodded.

* * *

Except for Harold and Geoff (who said he wasn't feeling too hot), we all stayed around the Bonfire until later. We weren't really talking; just sort of sitting there, in a circle. Harold was on my left, and Courtney was on my right. Both leaning back on our hands, Courtney and I were kind of close together, especially considering how much space we actually had. I wasn't complaining, though; certainly I embraced all opportunity for us to be near each other.

I wondered for a minute whether or not Courtney had actually been lying to me about why she was acting strange. I wanted to question her further, but before I had the opportunity, Bridgette stood up and said, "I'm going to bed. Courtney, come with me?"

She nodded. Standing up, she followed Bridgette, saying, "Good night!"

I waved back, and said, "Night."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched them walk all the way back to the cabins. Not because I enjoyed watching her walk... well, okay, I was a guy, of **course** enjoy that, but that wasn't the only reason. I did want to make sure she got back okay.

DJ must have been watching too, because once their cabin door closed, and it was just him and me, he said, "So, how'd hanging out with her go? She admit it yet?"

I shook my head. "Nope. We just walked in the woods for a while, then sat up in a tree all afternoon. Then like I said, we got to talking and completely lost track of time." I moved myself into a sitting position, pulled my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my knees.

He nodded, and stared into the fire. "What'd you guys talk about?"

I smiled, and rested my head on my arms. "Everything, I guess. School and college and our families and stuff."

He nodded again. "So, did you have fun?"

I smiled even wider. "Yea. Yea, I did."

* * *

Once we got back to the cabin, Bridgette shut the door behind her. It was loud. She seemed mad.

"Okay." She said, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. She looked mad, too. "You've been acting strange ever since you came back from hanging out with Duncan. What happened? Did he do anything to you?"

I shook my head. The idea made my heart beat faster. "He didn't even approach the subject." I said honestly.

She relaxed. "Good. I was worrying about that after seeing your face when you came in." Then she walked over to our cabin's mirror and started brushing her hair. "So, what'd you guys do, then?"

As I undressed and redressed into my pajamas, I was smiling widely. I made sure to face away from Bridgette, though, so she couldn't see how red my face was. "We walked in the woods, and talked."

"Talked?" She asked, looking at me over her shoulder. "That's strange. I can't picture Duncan having a lot to say that would interest you."

I went even more red, and chuckled a bit. "Yea. Neither could I."

We were quiet for a minute, while she brushed her hair and I climbed into my bunk. I needed a shower, and I really wanted to brush my teeth, but I was just so tired...

Bridgette turned off the light and climbed into her bunk. I heard her breathing become shallower as she relaxed. I turned over in my bunk to face the wall, before calling, "Hey, Bridgette?"

"Hm?"

I smiled, and snuggled deeper into my blanket. "I think I like him."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay. So, the fact that was actually true was that Duncan's parents are cops. That is a fact. It's in his character bio on the website. S'aright?

Aright! :)

See you next time, for BASIC STRAINING!


	23. Basic Straining

**A/N:** Oh me, oh my! We've finally arrived, dear readers, to the infamous chapter. And I have so many things to say about it that the Author's Note may very well be as long as the chapter itself. Ugh! I apologize. I'll do my best to condense wherever possible.

So I have a few things that I changed out of canon. Just little things. I debated for a while just breaking canon altogether and have Harold get voted off instead, but I came up with another solution that I think will be manageable. Also, a few other little things, but they're hardly noticeable.

So, the warnings: Sex is mentioned, like with the last chapter. A few swears. But seriously, you should be expecting this; it's a T rated fanfic. Do not want, do not read.

Now, a few things I want to say.  
1) This chapter is in honor of me not having any more difficult exams this year. The only two I was worried about were AP Biology and AP History, which I took today and last Friday respectively. Which also explains why the update took so long in coming out. I had to study. I'm sure you guys understand.  
2) I've decided: **I AM GOING TO WRITE TOTAL DUNCAN ACTION**. I'm not sure if any of you are still following it on youtube, but the things that happened in episode 12 made me... VERY unhappy. **VERY, VERY** unhappy.  
Therefore, I'm going to write TDuncanA. However, it's not going to be until after Total Drama Action is finished airing in Canada, and not until after I've at least established a good few chapters for these two other stories I have for other fandoms of mine.  
Also, I'm still debating on Total Duncan Musical (the potential(?) third season), but most likely I will. Unless they get new characters. In which case, no.  
3) I didn't completely finish the episode in the chapter. I'll finish it in the next chapter. You guy's'll understand, once we get to the end, why I ended it where I did. For one, I just wanted to finish the chapter. It nearly reached 20,000 words for this chapter ALONE. I was done. Also, I think I ended it here much better than I could have ended it where the episode ended.  
4) The next chapter will be the last in-between challenges segment. If there's anything worth mentioning, I'll include it before the challenge in the next chapter, or after the challenge in the previous chapter.  
5) Again. I do not speak perfect French. Any and all translations are liable to be completely wrong.

S'aright?  
Two more things. I just want to say that, while it was awkward for me to write some parts in this chapter, this was my absolute FAVORITE chapter. I don't think I'll ever like any other chapter more than this one. I honestly, truthfully think I did an alright job with this, and can only hope that you like it as much as I do. :)

Last note.  
You guys... There are no words to explain how much I appreciate all that you guys do for me and my story. 316 reviews? 25,000 hits? 84 Alerts and almost 130 favorites?!  
I just... -sniff- Thank you, dear readers. From the bottom of my heart. Nothing makes me happier than knowing that my writing is getting read.

That being said. I think it's safe to open the gate. So, without any further ado, please.

**ENJOY BASIC STRAINING!**

* * *

I woke up feeling very unlike myself the next morning. I felt like I had something to prove to somebody, and for just a minute, I was a little worried; that was exactly how I used to act before I came here. Before I decided I had to be better. Before I'd met Courtney. Right after I acknowledged it, though, the feeling was smothered, leaving me feeling spiteful and demanding.

I wasn't sure why until later, but around seven thirty that morning, while I was in the shower, Chris' voice rang out over the camp that breakfast was to be served at eight. I woke up the guys, and Geoff went to wake up the girls. The Gophers woke themselves up, and we ate breakfast by eight.

I finished eating by eight thirty. After that, I grabbed my knife from the cabin, and started carving a skull into the front wall of the cabin, in between the boys' and girls' rooms. A few minutes later, Geoff reclined on the cabin steps, and we remained in silence for a while.

Around nine, Harold came out of the cabin, and confronted us. "Okay, who's made s'mores out of my underwear?!" He glared at the two of us. It was Geoff who'd done it; I'd basically given up tormenting him. However, I got the feeling that he still thought it was me, because he glared at Geoff for a second, then fixated his glare on me. We both snickered. He proceeded to pull one of the pairs of underwear out of the s'more and flung it behind him in anger.

We heard a scream and looked over. Courtney was looking at the offending pair of underwear in disgust. I almost started laughing at the look on her face; she looked like she had just seen a ghost. Then she huffed. "Harold! You are so totally gross!" Then she turned around with her nose in the air, and walked away.

"No, wait! It wasn't me!" Harold tried to appeal. Then he turned back and glared at me again. "Idiots!" He shouted, before slamming the cabin door shut.

"Sometimes," Geoff began, chuckling, "He just makes it too easy!"

"I hear you, man." I said, still laughing, too, and crossing my arms. The inner voice remained silent. I got the feeling he wasn't happy with me, but honestly, I couldn't bring myself to care. Later, I would learn that the reason I was acting this way was because of Courtney. I had to prove to her that I wasn't soft, and so, I had to act out. However, for the moment, I was spiteful, and had to prove my dominance.

"Listen up you little cockroaches!" Chef's voice suddenly rang out. I looked to the microphone and listened. "I want all of the campers to report to the Dock of Shame at oh-nine-hundred hours." What was that in, military time? "That means **now**, soldiers, **now**!"

Out of concern of being yelled at by Chef, we all ran to the Dock of Shame immediately. I turned to Geoff and said, "Well, at least we know why we had to eat breakfast early." Geoff agreed.

* * *

At the Dock of Shame, Geoff and I met up with Courtney. She smiled at me, careful not to let anybody else see. I figured she just still didn't want people to know she liked me. Whatever. I knew she liked me. I nodded back at her and stood next to her. Just like with before, I was tempted to reach out and touch her, or grab her hand, so in an attempt to stifle the urge, I crossed my arms.

Chef joined us shortly after the last person got there. He looked at us all, and glared. Lifting his megaphone, he said, "Line up and stand at attention. You call this proper formation!?" Walking down the line, he first struck Geoff's legs and my arms, lifted Heather's chin, and thoroughly beat Harold, saying, "Feet together! Arms down! Eyes forward! Head up!" Gwen must had whispered something then, because Chef shouted through his megaphone, "What did say to me, soldier?!"

"Um... nothing!" Gwen said fearfully.

"And you will continue to say nothing until I tell you that you **can** say something!" He then turned around and started pacing the dock again. He continued to talk through his megaphone. It was beginning to give me a headache. "Today's challenge will not be an easy one. In fact, I do not expect everyone to come out alive."

Owen started to chuckle nervously, and Chef struck his arm. "Oooh! That hurt!"

Chef paid Owen no mind, and continued to pace. "My orders are to make sure that all of the babies in front of me drop out of my boot camp except one. The last one standing wins immunity for their team." He explained. I almost smiled. This would be a piece of cake. Nobody here had a better shot at this than I did; hell, we did these kinds of things in Juvie every day!

"Uh... what happened to Chris?" Heather asked tentatively.

Chef completely ignored her. "Rule number one!" He shouted. "You will address me... as Master Chief. Have you got that?!" He yelled into his megaphone.

"Yes Master Chief!" We all replied.

"You will sleep when I tell you to sleep," he continued. "And you will eat only when I tell you to eat." He said, directing his megaphone towards Geoff. "Is that clear?!"

"Yes Master Chief!" Geoff replied, wide-eyed.

"Rule number two!" He said, holding up two fingers. "When you are ready to give up," he pointed to the end of the dock where we saw a small, crusty-looking bell. "You will walk to the end of the dock, and ring the bell. Which brings me to rule number three!" He continued pacing and yelling through his megaphone. "I'd like to get one quitter before the end of the first day, and that day will not end until someone drops out! Now get your butts down to the beach soldiers, now, now, now!" We all ran as fast as we could towards the beach, worried that he'd hit us with that stick of his again.

Down at the beach, there were two of the canoes that we used to get to Boney Island in a previous challenge. I raised an eyebrow, curious as to what we would have to do. We couldn't all fit into a single canoe. Maybe it was a relay race? I looked around and noticed that there weren't any paddles. So what could we possibly have to do with the canoes?

"Listen up! Each team must hold a canoe over their heads. I catch you taking your hands **off** the canoe, and you will be eliminated." He said maliciously. "And no one eats lunch until someone drops out." I exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Courtney, who was right next to me. It appeared she was just as surprised as I was, although I wasn't sure why she was surprised. I was surprised because of how easy this challenge was. Keeping our arms up for several hours? Not a big deal at all. "Canoes up!"

* * *

Except that it was a big deal. People generally only hold their arms up for a few minutes at a time, at most. But after an hour, or two, or four, my arms were getting tired, and keeping them up felt more like torture than a challenge. However, I was allowed a few minutes' distraction; Geoff looped Harold's underwear onto a fishing pole that had been attached to the bottom of the canoe, and was waiting for the perfect opportunity to pull it.

After half an hour, Chris came back. Another half an hour later, they climbed on top of the canoes, which made holding them up even more difficult.

Geoff turned around and grinned at me. I knew that that was his signal. He was going to do it now. He grabbed the rod and started spinning the reel. I almost burst out laughing. "Time to land that fish!" I whispered amusedly. Geoff nodded, and gave a sharp tug on it, which tore the back of Harold's underwear completely.

"Ow!" He said, putting his hands on his butt. Geoff tossed the fishing rod behind him. It didn't go very far. "Idiots!" He shouted, glaring at us. Then, realizing the volume of his shout, looked up and quickly put his hands back on the canoe just as Chef lowered his head down to look at us all.

"Is there a problem down here?!" he shouted in Harold face. Harold pulled his head back in what I assumed was fear.

"No!" He said, shaking his head. Chef retracted, and Harold turned around and glared at us. We just smiled innocently. He huffed, and turned back around.

* * *

Several hours later, I started nodding off where I stood. I was getting a little dizzy, and my arms were completely numb. I had a dream about Chef on a battle field. It was really strange, because it seemed like he was narrating it. Then Lindsay came in, and she didn't have any arms, and then I woke up in surprise at hearing a bell ring.

The team next to us fell to the ground, while we Bass threw our canoe to the side. I grinned in seeing that it was Lindsay that had given in. I listened to Chef give us our next orders. "As for the rest of you, head to the mess hall! Dinner is served!"

The cameras then shut off, and we walked over to the Main Lodge. On the way, I waited for Courtney to walk in front of me. But she realized what I was on to, and just walked next to me, giving me a challenging look. I looked back and grinned. Everything was a contest with her... and I loved it. She knew just how to push my buttons to get me so irritated... but love her so much, at the same time. She made me feel so unbelievably confused and angry, but the angrier with her I grew, the less potent the anger. Instead of anger, I felt something else beating in the place where my heart was; instead of a throbbing black glob of rage, it was something else. Something warm. Something great. And it was so unexplainable. So, was the inner voice right? Was I in love with her?

By the time I came to this question, we'd arrived at the Main Lodge. I grabbed two trays, and handed Courtney one without even thinking about it. She blushed and thanked me. I nodded, trying not to let my feelings inside show on my face.

Because once I reached that question, I grew anticipating and anxious. It was foreshadowing something, and it felt good. However, I couldn't help but feel that it was misleading me. I had a sneaking suspicion that, despite my optimism, something bad was coming, and I tried, while waiting for everyone to file into the Lodge, to guess what it was. Courtney didn't like me back? She was just leading me on? I couldn't guess, and the only explanation for it (that she was going to be voted off) didn't even occur to me until it was too late. I was so absorbed in finally winning her over that her absence was absolutely unthinkable. Earlier in the show, I'd been worried that I would reach the point where I physically needed to be around her, but hadn't realized at the time that it wasn't something I had a choice in, and that I was already well on my way to getting there. It was never a matter of "if." From the moment I fell for her—really, honestly fell for her—it had become a matter of "when."

My thoughts were cut short when everybody arrived in the hall, and Chef began talking again. "Alright, maggots! Open your ears! You got ten minutes to eat before night training begins, so get to it!" He said, to immediate uproar. I just shook my head. Ten minutes was not enough time, and this was not cool of him.

"Um, excuse me, Master Chief? Where's the food?" Gwen asked.

Chef just smiled. "You're looking at it." He said, gesturing to the garbage bins next to him. I looked at them with wide eyes. He couldn't be serious. Those were the garbage bins from—

"This is the leftover garbage from this morning's breakfast." Owen pointed out, nonplussed. I wanted to groan. He **was** serious.

"Darn right! When you're at war, you take what you can get!" He said commandingly. It's not that I didn't believe him. I'd heard enough war stories from my grandfather (who'd been in the army before becoming a cop) to know that war was brutal, and that men do things on the battlefield that **stay** on the battlefield, but the truth of the matter was, we weren't in a war, and we weren't in the army. So forcing us to eat garbage was not a plausible excuse. However, I couldn't really find it in me to complain. Garbage was all we'd been eating since we got here anyways. The only difference between the garbage in the bins and the garbage Chef served us was that the garbage Chef served us was normally warm.

"Well," Chris said smiling, addressing Chef. "I can see you've got this under control. I'm off to Kraft services. Coming?" He asked, walking away. He ignored the glares he received from everybody here except for Owen (who was too busy digging into the garbage to notice or care).

"Serve me up some of that!" Chef said happily, following Chris out to their tent.

As they left, and several campers slowly started to approach the bins, Geoff came up to me, grinning. "Dude. I got an idea. You know that friar full of grease?"

I nodded, grinning, already hip to his train of thought. "I'll be right back."

I headed into the kitchen with a cup in hand. The window was, fortunately, closed, but I still looked around me to make sure nobody was in here. The last thing I needed was somebody blowing the secret. Taking my cup, I walked over to Chef's friar and lifted the lid. It smelled like old bacon and French fries. Holding my nose, I dipped the cup into the friar and filled it with the grease. Then, I grabbed a napkin and wiped the edges of the glass to make it as clean-looking as possible.

Snickering to myself before I came back out, I opened the door with as blank a face as I could. As I walked in, I heard Heather scoff, and said, "Oh, I am **not** eating this!" She said, and dropped her tray. She then walked to the door and left.

Courtney, unfortunately, agreed, and dropped her tray to the ground. "Ugh. Me either!"

I smirked as I passed. "Don't care for today's specials, Princess?" I asked her teasingly, walking over to Harold. I caught her eye as I passed, hoping she'd be able to tell by my face that I was only kidding, but I don't think she caught the joke.

"I am going to be running for office one day, and **no one** is going to pull up a file of me eating garbage!" She said decidedly. I just continued to smirk.

When I arrived in front of Harold, I put on my best sincere face, and said, "Hey, Harold? We felt really bad about the whole 'underwear fishing-incident' thing, so here." I said, holding the glass out. He took it. "We found you some apple juice."

"Thanks!" He said, smiling at me. I almost managed to feel bad. Almost. Then I remembered the crusty underwear I found under his bed this morning, and decided that he would learn his lesson, and that harsh measures were only necessary. He drank the whole glass before looking revolted and spitting it all back into the glass. Geoff and I burst out into laughter. "That's not juice!"

Laughing, I said, "Oh, my mistake, dude! I-We-we must have confused it with the kitchen grease!" I couldn't help but laugh a bit while I was talking, and Geoff tried to hold his laughter back next to me.

"You guys are **so** immature!" Courtney said from behind me. She had her hands crossed across her chest, and was leaning her weight on one leg. I just smirked at her. "I hope you're proud of yourselves!"

Oh, I loved her. I decided it was time to kick it up a notch.

I chuckled once, and said, "Okay, look. I know you like me, he knows you like me, **everyone** knows it. So here's a tip. If you want to kiss me, I might let you." I said, just continuing to smirk smugly at her.

She just continued to frown that condescending frown. "And to think, I actually thought you were nice!"

As soon as she said that, my stomach sank, and that strange love-anger filled its place. That, and panic. I quickly made a signal trying to tell her not to say anything else, and she just rolled her eyes. "Me? Nice? Yea right." I played it off, pseudo-calmly.

Geoff, always watching my back, or else just none too bright, asked, "Why'd you think that?"

She just waved one arm. "Never mind. I was wrong. He's just as gross and annoying as he wants you to believe. Enjoy your **garbage**." She said angrily, before marching outside with her nose in the air.

I just looked at Geoff and Harold, and grinned weakly.

* * *

After I sifted through the garbage cans, I found a few pieces of food that weren't completely decomposed and covered in mold. I wasn't exactly full, but I'd had enough to eat to keep me from passing out.

Chef came back after ten minutes and told us that we were to meet back on the beach for night training in five minutes. He also told us to get the other competitors that hadn't eaten and make sure they were there, or else they'd get eliminated. Bridgette was about to go get Courtney, but I stood up and said, loud enough for her to hear, that I would go get her. She glared at me for a second, sitting back down next to Geoff, and I stared possessively right back. I wasn't sure exactly why Bridgette had a problem with me. I assumed it had something to do with Courtney, but since they'd talked yesterday (or had to have talked yesterday, they left the Bonfire Ceremony early enough to get some conversation in), it couldn't have just been about Courtney.

I left the Main Lodge for our cabin along with Lindsay, who was going to get Heather. We didn't walk near each other. I wasn't even sure if Lindsay was aware of my existence. But that didn't matter to me. The only girl on the island I was worried about was currently sitting in our cabin.

When I arrived, I knocked on the door. "Who's there?" I heard her voice call out.

"It's me." I said.

I almost heard her roll her eyes. "Come in."

I entered, and immediately found her laying on her back in her bed, with her arms behind her head, and her legs pulled up, one crossing over the other at the knee. I took a few steps in and said, "It's time for our night training. If we're not there in five minutes, we get eliminated."

She made no sign of hearing me. Instead, she sat up at the edge of her bed and looked at me. "What was with that, earlier?" She asked, sounding forcibly unattached. It was this tone that tipped me off that she was upset. That, and the fact that she wasn't looking at me. "Why are you so mean to Harold? And what's wrong with people knowing that you're actually a nice guy?"

So, she was worried about Harold? That couldn't be, she hated Harold. It must have been more that I was mean than that I was targeting Harold, or else she wouldn't have asked that second question. I sighed, and walked closer, leaning against her bunk. I crossed my arms. "Well, I'm mean to Harold because he's a slob who leaves his dirty underwear all over the cabin. It's disgusting." Then, because I knew that wasn't the answer she was anticipating, said, "And I'm mean in general because I have a reputation to protect. Maybe not for you or Geoff or Harold, but you forget. We're on TV. Millions of people are watching us every day. And I don't want anybody thinking that I've gone soft because of yo—" I managed to cut myself off before I said something I would really regret. However, she still gave me a weird look, so I quickly thought of an excuse. "Because of your criticism."

She sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's head over to the night training, then."

We walked in silence, and I couldn't help but feel as if I'd totally messed things up. I wondered, almost miserably, if I would be able to fix this.

* * *

Night training wound up being the stupidest thing I'd ever done for money. Chef had brought a boom-box, and without even saying anything, started dancing. We all watched closely. When the song ended, he looked at us all and said, "You got that?" We didn't respond, so he nodded, and said, "Now, dance!" before going back to the boom-box, hitting the "repeat" button, then hitting play again.

Rolling my eyes, I followed everybody onto the designated dance area, and began to mimic Chef. For the most part, it was really easy. But it was still absolutely ridiculous, and made me want to bury my head in the sand out of pure embarrassment. But it wasn't until Chef did these absolutely ridiculous pelvic thrusts that I decided I'd had enough to get me to quit. Instead of continuing to copy his moves, I walked over to the boom-box and hit the stop button. I looked up at him and glared.

"Duncan! What are you doing?!" Courtney whispered fearfully. My stomach filled with knots.

"One of us drops out, and we're done for the day." I told Chef, frowning.

He just continued to glare. "We're done when I **say** we're done!" He growled right back. "Now drop and give me twenty!"

Oh my God, really? I rolled my eyes, fell to the ground, and did twenty push-ups, glaring at him the whole time. He thought the war he fought in was tough? He didn't **know** war until he started a war with me, and by rescinding his promise of the "one drop out" rule... he meant war.

Later, I learned that my dropping out didn't mean I was eliminated. Night training was just that—training. It didn't count for anything. I groaned. I was so done with this challenge. It was so stupid. However, considering the fact that I hadn't yet been eliminated, I figured I would keep at this, and make Chef as angry as possible, if not just out of spite, than to at least see where the line is, so I could edge it as much as possible.

"For your next challenge, you will complete a 300 word essay about how much you love... me. Anyone who falls asleep or fails to complete the challenge will be eliminated!" He shouted. Then he looked at the clock. It was approaching midnight. "You have until oh-three-hundred hours. Now... begin!" He said. We all lifted our pencils.

I already knew exactly what I was going to write. I smirked as I began my essay.

* * *

"I love Master Chief Hatchet because he is very very very very..." Chef looked at my paper in confusion, and flipped through the next few pages. Then he frowned. "This is just one sentence with five pages of 'very's in between!" He shouted.

I sat there, smirking. "It's three hundred words exactly! You can count them if you want." I informed him, feeling victorious. I had a feeling he intended to do just that, before slipping in some of Owen's drool on his way to the other team's table. He glared at Owen who sat there with his mouth open, unnoticing.

"Wipe up that drool, you little baby!" He shouted at Owen. He was now covered in drool. If I wasn't so tired, I would have laughed. As it were, I was tired, and wasn't anywhere near as amused as I should have been. Then he turned to Trent and DJ. "You two slackers are **out**!" He said. Trent jerked awake, but DJ slept on. I stood up, grabbed a napkin, and walked over to him as he walked towards me. "The rest of you! Get to bed, and report to the playing field at oh-five-hundred hours!" He said, then stopped in front of me.

I offered him the napkin. "Uh, missed a spot there, General." I said sarcastically. He glared at me, and got up in my face.

"Boy! Do you want to run fifty laps around this camp right now?!" He asked, veins throbbing in his temple. I opened my mouth to retort before I felt and saw myself being pushed back by a pair of slender, tan arms.

"No thanks! He's going straight to bed!" Courtney told him, smiling. Then she turned to me, glaring. "Aren't you?!" Chef nodded, and walked away, and Courtney pushed me backwards even more, now looking worried, covering it with a glare. "What are you trying to do?! Get eliminated?!"

I just smirked. "I didn't know you cared." I said, still being sarcastic. Of course that wasn't my intention, but if I did get eliminated because of it, then so be it.

She continued to glare. "I **don't**. I just don't want to lose this challenge! So stop being such a **screw-up**, and do what you're told for once! Okay?!" She didn't wait for me to respond before stomping out to the cabins similarly to how she did earlier.

Without even looking over, I held out one of my fists to Geoff and said, "She wants me."

He hit my fist with one of his own. "No doubt." He agreed.

* * *

A few minutes after Courtney left, Geoff, Bridgette and I walked back to the cabins exhaustedly. It was three in the morning, and we had to get up in two hours. Despite how grungy I felt, I didn't bother with a shower, because I had no doubt in my mind that Chef's next challenge would be grueling, and showering now would be completely pointless.

And, as it turned out, I was right. The next morning, I woke up feeling groggy, tired and as spiteful as yesterday, only this time, I knew why; I had to get my revenge on Chef. There was no possible, humane reason we should have stayed up so late, and gotten up so early besides Chef's urge to torture us. So I would take his torture, but I would make sure that it was equally reciprocated.

When we arrived at the challenge location the next morning, I scoffed when I realized that I'd been right. Taking a shower **would** have been pointless; not only was it an obstacle course—and a challenging looking obstacle course at that—but it was also situated perfectly in a giant puddle of very runny-looking mud. Not only was I going to get sweaty, I was going to get filthy, too. I smirked. This was going to be fun.

"You will all run this course until you can **all** complete it in under one minute." Chef began. Then, because I wasn't pretending not to listen, he got up in my face. I was looking away. "Am I making myself clear?"

I looked at him, smirking. "Crystal."

Then, from next to me, Courtney whispered, "If you lose this for us, I'm going to make you **so** miserable!" I just grinned. It was cute because she didn't know that that was almost impossible at this point.

Just then, Chef's face was right next to me, shouting, "GO MAGGOTS, GO!"

* * *

First the wall. Then the ropes. Then the tires. Finally, the swinging axes. Cycle. Repeat. It was so easy; it was basic training. I jumped right over the wall, swung on the ropes with ease, pulled myself through the tires, and easily avoided the axes. Then I looked at Harold and Owen, and realized that I was taking my fitness for granted. But I was okay with that. It wasn't my fault they didn't work out more.

Despite the fact that I didn't trip even once, I got covered in mud. It was flying everywhere, from people running, from people falling. I got an idea as to why the mud was so runny, and with all of these people running over it, it only got runnier. However, the muddier I got, the more fun I seemed to be having. Maybe it was because I'd only ever played in the mud a few times before (there wasn't a whole lot of it in the city), but I was having a decent time—until I saw Courtney almost get beheaded by an axe. After that, I was nothing if not paranoid, and kept a close eye on her. I held my breath (unnecessarily and very stupidly) every time she approached the axes, but she didn't have any more close calls, and I began to enjoy myself again, though I never did stop watching her. I particularly enjoyed watching her fall in the mud, then stand up and try to wipe as much of it off of her as possible.

We kept at it for a while. At one point, Harold face-planted in the mud and inhaled some or ingested some or both, and wound up puking it out. I stopped to make sure he wasn't dying, and got Chef's attention. "Uh, General Crazy? We've got a situation here." I called to him, gesturing to Chef. He looked over, saw Harold, and ran towards us.

"Too... much... mud." Harold said, coughing. He looked queasy, but he would be okay now that most of it had come out. Even though he would be okay, Chef let him off the hook, and Harold walked to the infirmary.

"Wow." I said sarcastically to Geoff, just loud enough for Chef to overhear. "Poor guy." We both smirked.

Chef turned to me and glared. "Back on the course, soldiers, now!" I remained standing where I was while Geoff and Gwen (who'd stopped to check on Harold as well) ran off. "One wrong move and I'll be on you like stink on a poop wagon!" He said, trying to be threatening. I just looked away, trying not to laugh at his analogy.

But I could not let go of this one. "I look forward to it, sir!" I shouted, saluting with my left hand. He glared, and I ran off, completing the obstacle course several more times.

It really wasn't that difficult. The hardest part was making sure you were low enough to avoid the axes before crawling under them, and even that wasn't difficult for anybody, not even Owen. So I was able to run through it many times, with no difficulties. Geoff was able to as well, and Courtney. Owen somehow managed, and Gwen and Heather could all do it, but LeShawna couldn't complete it without getting sucked into the mud at some point, and Bridgette was too afraid of the axes to complete the whole circuit, and just crawled around them instead of under.

At one point, I was crawling under the axes next to LeShawna, and, when she tried to pull herself forward, got suctioned into the mud again, and was stuck. Jokingly, I said, "Fallen soldier, I salute you!" She rolled her eyes at me. I crawled forward a few more steps before coming upon a very large pair of boots. I looked up to see Chef's leering face looking down at me.

"You just bought yourself twenty more pushups!" He shouted at me.

I grinned. Good. I was getting sick of this obstacle course. I could easily complete it in less than forty-five seconds. I was just waiting on everybody else. I stood up. "Thank you!" I said happily. Then I kissed his nose loudly, and ran off the course.

But when I turned around to see his reaction, I saw his face go darker, and he started shaking and growling. Geoff came up next to me, and said, "I think you might have pushed him over the edge, bro."

Eyes wide, I agreed. "Aaah, I think you're right."

He opened his eyes, and said, so quietly I was amazed I could hear it, "One night, solitary confinement. In... the boathouse."

A collective gasp could be heard throughout the obstacle course. It seemed that everybody had stopped what they were doing do watch the spectacle unfold. It also appeared that the boathouse was somewhere to which I did not want to be sentenced. But I wasn't too worried. It was a boathouse for crying out loud! So I shrugged. "Big deal. How scary can it be?" I asked Courtney. She just bit her lip and looked apprehensive.

Chef continued to growl. "Boy! Do your pushups then get back on the course!" Everybody else continued to watch for a minute as I fell to the ground and did my pushups. Before I finished, though, Chef shouted at the others. "Maggots! Did I tell you to stop?!" I'd just reached three when everybody ran off. Courtney went slowly, still watching me, but my face was to the ground so I didn't see her expression.

In the meantime, Chef came over, and, when I'd reached fifteen, put his foot on my back. "Boy, you got one more chance before I eliminate you from this challenge. Do you understand me?" I rolled my eyes, but he couldn't see.

"Got it." I said uncaringly. He removed his foot, and I did my last five pushups before jumping back onto the course.

Once I got there, everybody avoided me like the plague, except for Courtney and Geoff. It seemed that nobody wanted to invoke Chef's wrath. Or maybe be the cause for me to invoke Chef's wrath. Either could work, because once Chef's wrath was invoked, everybody suffered.

But I was satisfied with the day's spoils. I'd found the line, and I would be careful not to cross it again.

* * *

We broke temporarily for lunch, which surprised me. I didn't honestly think Chef would give us lunch. We had some gooey brown sludge that looked like garbage and tasted like garbage. I assumed it was garbage. Later, I was proven right—it **was** garbage; Chef had taken all the edible stuff out of the trash cans and blended it up in a blender. Once he told us this (well after we'd all taken out first few sips), Courtney and Heather spat theirs out and refused to eat any more. I was a little concerned about Courtney not eating. I wanted to tell her to eat, but I didn't think she would listen to me. Plus, that would be considered a "kind" gesture, and people were getting the wrong idea too much lately. But she was seriously worrying me. She didn't eat lunch yesterday, didn't eat dinner, and only had half a bowl of what Chef tried to pass off as gruel for breakfast this morning. Now she wasn't eating lunch again. She was going to get sick. I had to come up with a plan to get her to eat before she did serious damage.

After lunch, we went right back to the obstacle course, only this time, Chef was challenging us all individually to see if we could all do it in under a minute. Geoff was first. He just barely missed the one minute mark. Then I went, and did it in fifty-four seconds. Everybody after me, including Courtney, got just barely over a minute except Gwen, who did it in fifty eight. Since we'd completed our task, we were exempt from going on.

Another hour later, Chef tested again. Geoff and Courtney joined us. The rest of them went back to the course. Another hour passed, and Chef tested them again. This time, everybody got through it except Bridgette and LeShawna, and they were both eliminated. LeShawna was met with too much resistance when trying to pull herself out of the mud and Bridgette couldn't make herself go under the axes.

So of the eight of us who went into this challenge, six of us (Geoff, Courtney, Gwen, Owen, Heather and me) moved on to the last challenge which would occur, we were told, the next day at noon. And so, we were allowed to leave for dinner. Honestly, I wasn't really hungry. Maybe it was the garbage, or maybe I was just anxious to make sure Courtney ate, but I wasn't feeling well. So when Chef cut his arm across my path and told me to go to the boathouse instead, I shrugged, and said, "Okay then. I can shower and change first, right?"

For a minute, it looked like Chef was going to say no. Then he thought about it, and decided that I would no doubt mess the whole place up if I went in dripping and soaked like I was. Geoff and Owen decided, instead of going in to eat, they wanted to shower first, and then the girls decided they wanted to shower, too, so Chef just postponed dinner until after we'd all showered.

Now, normally, we guys would have let the girls shower first, considering they were pickier about their cleanliness. But Chef ordered that the guys would go first today, only because I had to "get my butt to the boat house." I gave the girls an apologetic look, but the only one who looked displeased was Heather. Not even Bridgette looked angry, which was saying something. Bridgette seemed to be awfully angry with me lately.

* * *

I tried to take as quick a shower as possible. For one, I didn't want to use up all the hot water, and for another, I had to talk to Geoff, and Geoff showered quickly. By the time I was clean and turning off the water, Geoff was dressed. So once I was dried and dressed, I stepped out of my stall and grabbed Geoff's arm just as he was about to leave.

"Hey, man, can you make sure Courtney eats something?" I asked him. He nodded. I was almost sure that Geoff knew I was a good guy, and that he'd just been covering for me, and if he didn't know that before, he definitely knew it now. I kept my voice down so that Owen wouldn't hear, because if Owen knew, everybody else would know, and I didn't want that. So Geoff just nodded solemnly, and I thanked him.

I toweled my hair dry, and put it up in its usual mohawk before putting in my piercings. I was good at this routine by now, and could get my hair up in less than five minutes and all my piercings in and assembled within two.

Once I stepped out of the bathroom, Chef was right there to lead me to the boathouse. On the way, he listed several rules for me to follow during my confinement, really simple rules like that I'm not allowed to leave, and nobody's allowed to come in. I rolled my eyes, not bothering to point out that he was just reiterating the meaning behind "solitary confinement." He also said that I'm not allowed to touch anything with a sharp point and that if he caught me breaking any of the rules, I would be immediately eliminated. Then we reached the boathouse, and he pushed me inside and shut the door in my face. Rolling my eyes, I turned around...

And came face-to-face with a taxidermy shark. I almost shouted. Instead, I just jumped backwards, and side-stepped it. My nose was met with an overwhelming smell of dead fish. I was surrounded by fishing hooks, or shark teeth, or other sharp points. Now, normally, I liked sharp things. There's little cooler than seeing a sharp point cut something cleanly. But when you're completely surrounded by them, in the dark, by yourself, in an old, abandoned boathouse, things start to get a little freaky.

I sat down on a crate, hung my head, and sighed, saying, "I should have kept my big mouth shut." I jumped when, minutes later, a wolf howled loudly, and it sounded close.

* * *

Barely ten minutes later, I realized how boring and uncomfortable the place really was. I was in here for the whole night, but didn't have a bed to sleep on, or anything to really do. So, I decided to improvise. I found a few old blankets on the ground. They were dusty, and covered in spiders, so I shook them out over the part of the floor that opened up onto the water. I'd found a light earlier, and turned that on, but the bulb was old and the light was dim, so I couldn't be sure if I'd gotten all the spiders off. I wasn't too concerned. I'd be showering the minute I woke up anyways, and any spidery residue I collected from squishing one in my sleep would be washed off.

Before deciding to lay the blankets out, however, I decided to sweep the floor. God only knew how long it had been since the floors were cleaned; I didn't want to be inhaling dust that aged back to the War of 1812. So I found a small broom and started sweeping.

Of all the chores I'd ever been asked to do, I think sweeping was one of my favorites. It was so simple and mindless and rhythmic. Simple, mindless, rhythmic tasks were my favorite kind of tasks.

Right in the middle of my musings, however, a voice called out from outside the cabin, and a flashlight shone in the window. I couldn't tell who it was, so I continued to sweep as if I hadn't heard. Then whoever it was opened the door and called, "Hello? Duncan?" Though the flashlight shone in my eyes, prohibiting me from seeing who it was, I recognized the voice right away, and was instantly delighted. It was Courtney.

I looked at the approaching figure with an air of delight. I threw the broom aside and said, "Princess!"

She approached slowly, and rolled her eyes. "I wish you'd stop calling me that." She said dismissively. I grinned. No chance.

"So," I said sarcastically. She shone the flashlight on my face, so I couldn't see her expression, but I didn't need to to know that she rolled her eyes. "Come to claim that kiss?"

"Even pigs deserve a meal." She said, and offered me a bowl of something that I hadn't noticed. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it looked like someone mixed glue and rice together, so I groaned in distaste.

"No thanks. I'll stick with the bait." I said jokingly, gesturing to a can of live worms. I took the bowl anyways. Courtney grinned, and walked over to the crate that I'd been sitting on barely half an hour ago before deciding I'd make the place fit to spend the night in. She crossed her legs neatly and put the flashlight on the crate next to her, after turning it off.

"Yea, well, that's all Chef would serve us after our 'pathetic' performance on the obstacle course." She said, as I tried to spoon some of the glue-and-rice out of the bowl. However, the spoon wouldn't budge so, looking at it in shock and disgust, I set in on the ground next to me. It had barely crossed my mind to use the glue-and-rice as spider bait before Courtney was talking again, and any attention I'd had on the bowl was lost.

"Why do you egg Chef on like that? You know you're going to get in trouble." She pointed out. I grinned. She didn't understand me as well as I thought, then. If she had, she would have known that it was because I liked to win, and by letting Chef get away with all that he's done, I would be losing, and I would not have that. However, I couldn't exactly tell her that, because that was a little too personal for me to just say out loud.

So instead, I directed a question back at her that I knew would solicit a change of subject. "Why are **you** so uptight all the time?" I asked, just as seriously as she was. She immediately looked affronted, and stood up.

"I am **not** uptight!" She said. Just the way she denied it made me believe it even more. But I don't think she realized I wasn't pointing it out as a flaw. I thought her perfectionism was adorable, and it was one of the things that caused me to start to like her in the first place.

I scoffed. "You always follow the rules!" I argued back, standing up as well. Like I said, I wasn't pointing it out as a flaw. But she had to know just how rule-abiding she was, and since she didn't realize this herself, I didn't mind being the one to point it out to her.

"Well, you always have to break them!" She tried to argue back. I just smirked. I knew I'd won.

"Only the ones I want to." I said, and winked. She went slightly red before turning away from me. Another instance of desperately wanting to reach out and grab her hand passed over me, and lingered for a while. No matter how I tried to shake it off, the feeling didn't want to go away.

"Okay, so, maybe I do follow the rules. I guess that makes me a big, uptight **loser** in your books, right?" She asked. I smirked.

Never. "Maybe."

She sighed angrily. I quickly amended before I did some serious damage. "So, then, why **do** you follow them?" I asked. Personally, I'd never had a problem breaking a rule I didn't agree with, and I honestly didn't understand why some people did. I knew people from school that were so averse to breaking rules that they would actually get upset if they did something wrong, and, try as I might, I could never understand them. I figured I would get a reasonable answer from Courtney. I wasn't let down.

"Because **not** following them gets you thrown into a fish cabin!" She yelled, picking up and brandishing a fish at me. I held up my hands in surrender, not wanting to be hit with a nasty dead fish. Under my panic, though, I was a little surprised that she wasn't squeamish about touching it. While I wasn't grossed out by dead fish, they weren't exactly on my list of priorities of things I would use as a weapon.

When she lowered the fish, I smiled, and moved closer to her, putting my head by hers. Because a thought occurred to me; I was supposed to be in solitary confinement; she was breaking a rule right now! "But I'm in the fish cabin with **you**, aren't I?" I said suggestively. She looked away, trying to hide a smile. I grinned, and backed off. "Feel like ditching this crap for some peanut butter and jam?" I asked. I'd formulated a plan earlier that would get Courtney to eat, and even if she wasn't on board with the plan, I would still do it. She had to be hungry by now, and probably wouldn't say no, but even if she did, I would. I refused to take no for an answer.

"Huh! Are you kidding! All I've had for two days is this gruel." She said in disgust. Then she looked down-hearted. "But Chef will never give it to us."

"See! Now that's the problem with your thinking!" I pointed out. "The trick is to not ask for it." I told her. I almost expected her to slap me for even suggesting it, but I was proven wrong. She just continued to grin in disbelief.

"Do you have some on you?" She asked amusedly.

Here, I had to roll my eyes. She was so smart and intuitive, but she didn't understand that a thief was suggesting we go to steal food? So I held back a face-palm gesture, and said, "No. But I happen to know where to find it." Here it was. The moment of truth. Did she trust me enough to go along with this, or was she still too worried about the consequences to take a chance? Regardless, I was going through with it, if for no other reason than to get her to eat something, but if she came with me, it would be so much easier. "It **will** involve breaking quite a few rules, though." I watched her expression carefully, to monitor any change. So far, nothing. "Are you in?"

She looked away thoughtfully for just a moment before making eye contact again and grinning. I held up my hand for a high five, which she returned, saying, "Let's do it!"

I grinned. That's exactly what I'd been hoping for. "Well, alright then!"

* * *

I quickly told her my plan for raiding Chef's fridge in the Kraft services tent. She seemed surprised at my ability to plan things out with such detail, like the time we should go and what we should take. She even offered the idea of bringing food for the others too, something I hadn't considered. My main focus was getting her to eat. I wasn't even concerned about myself so much as I was about her. But I agreed with her plan, and we broadened the range of things we should take to suit the other's tastes.

We started by her grabbing my bag from our cabin. Since I wasn't allowed to leave the boathouse (ha-ha!), she offered to go get it for us. I told her not to bother dumping the stuff out, and to just bring the whole thing here, because it would look sketchy if she did it there. Instead, she was to tell anyone who asked that I fell in the water and needed a change of clothes, and that she wasn't rifling through my bag to find it herself. I waited for ten minutes before she came back, and said that nobody was in our cabin, and she wasn't even stopped. Apparently, everybody was still in the Main Lodge. That was good news for us, because it meant that Chef and Chris would come back and eat themselves, which meant their food was already prepared, which ultimately meant that they wouldn't be going to the fridge.

After she returned, I took all the stuff out of my bag—my identification, some clothes, my iPod and headphones, some other random things I'd shoved into my bag before leaving—and put them in the crate so I could be sure nobody saw that my bag was ever emptied. Then, after carefully checking to see that nobody was outside, we darted for the woods, and hid in some bushes behind the Kraft services tent for Chef and Chris to come back. Once they did, and were situated in their meal, Courtney peeked around the corner to see that the tarp between the kitchen area and dining area was sealed off. She affirmed that it was, and we moved in.

We got down on our hands and knees, and, as I'd instructed from earlier, crawled behind the table towards the opposite side of the tent. As we went, I whispered, quiet enough to not be heard under their conversation, "Slowly... slowly, crawl."

When we got to the fridge, I realized two things: one, that Courtney had been right behind me, and hadn't even considered turning back the whole time, and two, that she was still carrying that dead fish. I was a little surprised by that, but, before we opened the fridge, I said, "Now, you know what to do in case they come in, right?"

She nodded. "Go under the side of the tent and run."

I nodded, grinned, and said, "Here we go."

Then I opened the fridge.

* * *

Minutes later, my bag was full, even though it looked like we'd barely made a dent in the supplies in the fridge. Among other things, we'd stuffed soda, fruits, vegetables, peanut butter and jam, snacks, lunchmeats and bread into my bag.

"If we get caught, we're so dead!" She whispered to me at one point. I grinned, and continued loading my bag. It was filling up fast, so I was sure to grab the essentials, things everybody would like. In the background, Chris and Chef's conversation carried on. I couldn't be sure, because I was too busy listening for sounds of movement, but I think they were discussing their facial hair.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I asked her once we were almost finished. The last thing to grab was a tray of fudge that was sitting right on the middle shelf inside.

Courtney giggled almost-silently. "Heck yes! This is the most fun I've had here yet!" She then put the fish on the tray front and center, saying, "A little present, courtesy of the Killer Bass."

I almost burst out laughing, but managed to stifle it. I put my arm companionably around her shoulders, and said, "Now you're learning!" before grabbing the fudge and closing the fridge.

We carefully crawled back through the door, significantly more careful now than before because of all the things that would have made noise. However, once we were clear, we ran full speed ahead for the forest, not bothering to stifle the noise anymore. Behind me, I could hear Courtney's triumphant (though still quiet) shouts, and I heard her laughing at the same time.

After we were cleared, we headed back for the boathouse first. We checked the food to make sure none of it had been damaged, and were pleased to find that the only thing worth getting rid of was an apple that had gotten severely bruised. Once the food was all checked, we looked outside to make sure Chef and Chris were still in their tent before carrying my bag back to the guys' side of the cabin.

Upon entering, Geoff, DJ and Harold looked up in surprised to see me and Courtney grinning. Geoff raised his eyebrows. "Dude, what's going on? I thought you were supposed to be in solitary confinement?"

I shrugged. "Well, I could go back, but that would mean I took this with me." I said, before opening my bag and carefully dumping the stuff on the floor. Sodas, snacks, crackers, cookies, fruits, several loaves of bread, all spilled onto the floor in a bouquet of smells that none of us have smelled since we'd earned the party for that one challenge, and even then, it was nowhere near as appetizing as this array.

The guys all bolted out of bed, and looked at the stuff on the ground in shock. "Dude, where'd you get this stuff?!"

I grinned at Courtney, and she grinned right back. "Let's just say that the Kraft services tent is missing about a sixteenth of their fridge." She explained.

Then, the guys finally noticed that she was standing right next to me, and their eyes flickered from me to her. Carefully, almost unnoticeably, I shook my head to indicate that nothing had happened yet. Geoff understood. They continued to grin.

"So, go get Bridgette and the Gophers, and let's make a party out of this." I said, sitting down on the floor. Courtney immediately left to get Bridgette from her side of the cabin, and came back shortly. Bridgette was getting the Gopher girls, and one of them would be getting the boys.

For a second, Bridgette came in before heading over to the Gophers, and asked, "Should we invite Heather, too?" She looked sort of apprehensive, as if unsure.

Courtney and I exchanged glances. We were both thinking the same thing: neither of us wanted Heather to come, but the fact remained that Heather was still human, and still had to eat, and the ingestion of what Chef was serving couldn't be considered eating. So we nodded, and Bridgette left. Shortly after, Bridgette, Gwen, Trent, Owen, Lindsay, LeShawna and Heather came over.

There was thick tension in the air as we started to eat, and there was no doubt in anybody's mind why that was. Even Heather noticed that she was kind of killing the mood, but, possibly for the sake of her pride, didn't stay long. We made sure that she had enough to eat, though, before she left.

She smiled a sincere smile. "Oh, yea. I'm full." Then she stood by the door awkwardly for a minute before saying, "Uh... thank you." Then she shook her head, and left.

For a few minutes, the air still felt tense, but before long, we were all eating in a companionable silence as opposed to an awkward one.

At one point, Harold left to go to the bathroom, and I took that time to grab the peanut butter and carefully put a smiley face in peanut butter on his sheets. But by the time he came back, I almost forgot about it. I'd been keeping an eye on Courtney to make sure she was eating at least something healthy. I wasn't disappointed. She had a turkey sandwich, an apple, and some carrots before starting in on the cold s'mores someone had prepared. At that point, I kind of tuned out. She'd had something decent to eat, so I was satisfied.

As for me, I didn't eat a whole lot. I had two peanut butter sandwiches, some soda, and an apple. I only had a piece of the fudge I'd gone out of my way to steal; I wasn't really that hungry. At this point, I felt as though I was waiting for something important to happen, and I stood leaning against my bunk in silence, mindlessly gnawing on a graham cracker, when I heard a loud, "Ugh! Guys! Gross!"

I looked over to the source of the noise to find that Harold discovered the message left for him in his bunk, and I burst out laughing. "See! Now that's a waste of good peanut butter!" I turned to Geoff, trying to frame him for it. He just laughed. Harold rolled his eyes and swapped pillows with one of the beds in an empty bunk, and took the sheets off his old bed and placed them in the laundry hamper. We all did our own laundry here, including the sheets; therefore, Harold would be in charge of cleaning the peanut butter off of his old bed sheets.

I don't really remember when it ceased to be about Harold being gross about his underwear and when it started to be about just picking on Harold. I would come to regret this later, but at present, picking on Harold was a great source of entertainment, and I hadn't had the hindsight to think about how karma would bite me for it. I should have. But I was too wrapped up in how well things were going for me to remember that things always have a tendency to go sour just when they start to go right.

* * *

Shortly after Geoff and I got over our peals of laughter at Harold's expense, I sat down in the lower bunk closest to the wall by the door, on the opposite side of the door. I couldn't shake the feeling I had that something important was going to happen. I shut my eyes for a second before suddenly hearing a loud patter of feet to the door, and jerked awake. Had Chef figured it out? Were we fleeing?!

When I sat up, though, I heard Gwen and LeShawna laughing, and most of the other Gophers chuckling. The Bass, on the other hand, looked somewhat concerned, and I noticed first thing, that Courtney was not in here. From outside, I heard, very quietly, the sound of someone throwing up, and I stood up and grinned. I should have known. Courtney, in the throes of success, was caught up in the moment and overate. I walked over to the door slowly, and made an immediate right upon exiting the cabin after shutting the inner door.

"So, the Princess has a dark side." I muttered to myself, just loud enough for her to hear. For someone who just threw up, she looked pretty well-put-together; her face was normal color, and her mouth was clean. If I hadn't heard it for myself, I wouldn't have even considered that she was just sick.

She leaned helplessly against the banister, and muttered. "Okay. That was so gross." Then she stood up and wobbled a little, but regained her balance and said, "But it was like, once I did something **bad**, it was so much fun, I just wanted more!" She said, getting increasingly more emotional as the sentence wore on. Her hand gestures were no less amusing.

I moved forward and cradled her chin between my thumb and fingers without even thinking about it (no doubt due to the impulse I'd had to make contact with her all evening), and said, "Well, you could always give me that kiss. That'd be pretty bad." I said persuasively. Then I removed my hand before she got angry.

She just grinned, and didn't my hand on her face into account any more than I'd hoped she would. She looked temporarily surprised, but then she just scoffed lightly, and grinned. She ran her fingers through my mohawk and ruffled my hair a bit, saying, "You're still not my type." I didn't want to acknowledge the fact that her ruffling my hair tickled my head, and tried to forget about it almost as soon as it happened.

So, teasingly, I turned my back on her, and crossed my arms. Grinning, I said, "Fine. Enjoy a peanut butter-less life." My attempts at persuasion continued to fail, and I almost frowned.

Then, she surprised me by turning around and mimicking my movements. Our shoulders touched lightly. "Thanks. Enjoy prison."

I moved closer. Her hair tickled the back of my neck. "I will."

The next thing I knew, her hands were on my face, turning me around, pulling me to her, and I felt something on my mouth. I opened my eyes wide, saw her face very close to mine, looked back down and realized—_she was kissing me!_

My heart almost stopped, and I closed my eyes and kissed her back. I breathed in through my nose and smelled the air. It was sweet, like chocolate and marshmallow, with a slight sour twinge to it, which I assumed was vomit. I was strangely not as disgusted by that as I thought I would be, but then again, my mind was thrilled and shocked into silence, reacting to being kissed by the girl I loved almost as I expected it would; acceptance, followed by total meltdown.

It didn't last long. Maybe a few seconds at best. But the point remained that she'd kissed me. Of her own free will. I'd been half-joking when I suggested it; obviously I wanted her to, but I never expected she would.

I didn't regret making the suggestion.

"Meet me in the boathouse later. We'll talk about it." She whispered in my ear, then walked away, smiling at me. I could only stare with a dumbfounded expression until I felt an arm around my shoulder.

"Yes, dude!" Geoff said, grinning broadly. He and DJ came out to see what was going on, and witnessed it. Courtney's admittance to what I'd been trying to prove to her for what felt like all of time.

She liked me. There was no denying it anymore.

I just grinned at Geoff. "Told you she wanted me." I said, but I didn't sound like I was bragging so much as I was completely shocked by this myself.

* * *

I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by "later," but the Gophers left very soon after, having no other reason to stay once they'd had enough to eat. We now had a problem; there was all this excess food (not to mention wrappers) that proved that one of us Bass boys was guilty, and nowhere to put it.

"The wrappers, easy. Put them in the garbage, and give it to me. I'll take it and burn it later." I offered. I wasn't sure when later was exactly, considering I had to meet Courtney, but I could at least store it somewhere in the woods. Maybe with the fragments of Courtney's violin that I had to finish.

"But what about the leftovers?" DJ asked. We had half a loaf of bread, two apples, some ham and some graham crackers left.

"Nobody wants any of it?" I asked. They all shook their heads. I nodded. "Alright. I'll take it with me when I go to burn the trash. We can leave this stuff out for some animals. They'll eat it." I grabbed the box of graham crackers, though, figuring Courtney might be hungry later, considering she'd thrown up everything she took in. "I'm taking these with me. I don't know when Chef's gonna let me out of solitary confinement, and I'm bound to get hungry later." I put the graham crackers, trash and excess food in my bag and headed out, after making sure to check for Chris or Chef (who, we heard over the loudspeaker, was very irritated by our theft).

I ran straight for the forest and took the long way around the camp to the boathouse, stopping at my favorite tree and putting the garbage in on top of the bottle of glue and the violin that had long since set in it's shape. The rest of the food was scattered randomly throughout the forest, except for the graham crackers. Finally, I headed for the boathouse, trying to relax so as not to appear too eager, but altogether unable to calm myself down.

I entered the boathouse to see Courtney in a pair of pajamas with her flashlight from before, reading a book. For a minute, she appeared not to notice my entrance, before I realized that she wasn't really reading the book, but spacing out with the book open on her lap. I wanted to say something to break her out of her trance, but I wasn't really sure what I wanted to say.

Fortunately for me, I didn't have to think of anything, because eventually, she said, "How long?"

I was taken aback by her question. "How long what?"

She looked up at me, smiling softly, and shut her book. She placed it carefully on the floor beside her, and she asked, "How long have you liked me?"

I smiled, and sat down next to her. I considered, for a brief moment, sitting across from her instead, but my brain instantly rejected the idea. I was finished with trying to keep distance between us. I liked her. She liked me. And I wanted us to be able to maintain physical contact, or else this wouldn't work. So I sat down next to her, making our arms touch, and said, "About the second challenge, I started having feelings for you, but I didn't really recognize them or acknowledge them until, eh... Roughly the dodge-ball challenge. I could be wrong, though. It might have been sooner." Then, my curiosity was sparked. "How about you?"

She smiled. "You know that party we had? The stars one? And you cornered me at that table after everybody left? That was when." She admitted. "I had feelings for you before that, but I finally admitted it there."

"So, if you admitted it to yourself then, why didn't you just say so?" I asked curiously. I wasn't being pushy, I just wanted to know. All that time we could have been together, wasted.

She smiled wryly. "I guess I was coming to terms with the fact that everything I was raised to believe was wrong."

I didn't ask for her to elaborate, because I was pretty sure I understood.

* * *

We stayed up for a while that night, and talked about anything we wanted to. She told me about the book she had published, called Total Triumph For Teens. I made a mental note to read it sometime. I had no doubt that it was all about how to be successful, and that I would never need any of the information in it, but I wanted to know what kind of person she was before I met her.

It was rare and subtle when she did so, but once or twice, Courtney would move, just slightly, and end up pushing herself closer to me. I was thrilled with this; her skin felt cooler compared to mine, and kept the areas where our skin made contact from overheating. It was nice, really.

There was a period of time where neither of us talked for a while. Instead, we just sat and leaned against the other, and listened to the sounds of the tide hitting the shore lightly. After a while of just sitting and breathing and listening, I turned my head, and buried my face in her hair. I pressed my lips gently to her head, and leaned my forehead against hers. She turned her head to face me, and gently kissed my mouth.

It had a lazy sort of feel to it. I kissed back lightly, thrilled to the core. I couldn't believe this. She admitted it. Finally. And here we were, together in the boat house. I adjusted my body slightly, to be facing her, and I put my hands on her neck. She put her hands on my chin, and pulled me even closer. I leaned over, trying to press harder, but, because there was nothing supporting her, we fell sideways, and I landed on top of her in a very compromising position, should anybody walk in and see us. She was lying under me, and I had my arms on either side of her, trying to catch my fall. And because of how we'd been sitting, both of my legs landed on either side of hers, and I was on my hands and knees over her.

We both made muffled shouts of surprise, and, once we landed, I broke the kiss. "Uh..." I said, starting to go red. This was awkward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for—"

"Shut up." She said, pulling my face back down and pressing her lips to mine forcefully. My eyes widened and my face got hot, but, naturally, I kissed back happily. I felt triumphant. I felt like running. I felt like jumping. I felt like shouting. This was my victory. I didn't even have to win the game anymore. I didn't even **want** to win the game anymore. I just wanted to stay here with her forever, just like this.

Or just like it would shortly become. We'd kept it PG for a while, just kissing and pulling back and kissing and pulling back. Making sure we could still breathe. Then, and I'm still not sure what, something changed, and it just felt more urgent.

Now, I knew urgency when I felt it. I'd had several moments like that in the past few weeks alone (mostly after having dreams with her in them). But this was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was as if we'd been trying to balance on a scale. One minute, we were content just kissing. Then, I tilted my head, or she moved her arm, and suddenly, the scale was so off balance that we fell off.

Once the scale became unbalanced, I pressed harder, and she pressed just as hard back. Then, suddenly, I felt something swipe my lip and realized she was licking my lips. I tried to stifle a grin when I realized what she was doing, and parted my lips and pushed my tongue out to meet hers. She inhaled sharply. Panicked, I opened my eyes and pulled my lips from hers. She just glared at me, and pulled my head back. And we started the process all over again, with the same amount of urgency. She licked my lips again, and I pushed my tongue out to meet hers again. She didn't make any noise to indicate that she had a problem with that, so I didn't pull back.

* * *

We continued with that for a while, but I wasn't sure how long, and I wasn't sure how long it was until we stopped. All I remember was that I wanted her, in ways I don't care to explain. But at the same time, I didn't. Sure, my body was telling me that I wanted her, but my mind was saying no. And my mind won out.

I think the inner voice was right. I think I loved her. Because if she'd been any other girl, I wouldn't have thought twice about suggesting we take it further. But once I'd thought about it, my brain immediately shut that train of thought down, because it knew what the consequences would be. And neither my brain nor my body was interested in that. So we kept it at PG-13 max, and I was proud of myself. Not because I didn't do it, but because I didn't even consider it. I was getting better at being good.

Eventually, I realized that we couldn't go on like that forever, and that, even though I wanted nothing more than to continue making out with her for the next few hours, we **did** have a challenge, and we both needed some sleep. So I pulled my head back and took what felt like the first breath I'd taken in hours. I hadn't realized how little we'd been breathing until we gasped for air and panted, out of breath, once we'd stopped.

Still on my hands and knees on top of her, I opened my eyes and said, in between gulps of air, "Not that I want to stop any more than I'm sure you do, but we **do** have a challenge tomorrow." She opened her eyes, and looked kind of like a deer in headlights, chest heaving. Her hair was kind of messed up, and it looked as if she'd just woken up. I wanted to kiss her again. So I did. But I kept it quick and light, and pulled back shortly after.

But I wasn't quite ready to let her up yet. After denying any physical contact with her for so long, I was in my glory right now, and I would take my fill of it. So I lowered my head again, closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to hers. Our noses touched. I stayed there like that for a while, breathing in through my nose and registering her smell to memory. She smelled sweet and warm. I grinned, and whispered, "_Je pense que je suis dans l'amour avec tu, _Courtney_._" I wanted to say it. I had to say it. But I didn't want to say it in English. English didn't flow as sweetly as French did. I wanted it to flow. I wanted it to sound beautiful. I wanted her to know how strongly I felt about her. I didn't care how soon it was. I didn't care that we just started going out today. I felt that way about her for so long. It was about time the truth—the whole truth—came out, exactly as it was, no holds barred.

"Hm?" She asked, turning her nose slightly, and rubbing her nose against mine. This made me smile wider, and I waited a minute before repeating myself, too relaxed and too content with the silence to break it.

Eventually, though, I kissed her lips again, and said, as matter-of-factly as possible, eyes still closed and heart beating, "I think I'm in love with you, Courtney." I didn't move, waiting for her to respond. The longer it took her, the more panicked I got. Was it too soon? Did I freak her out? Did I ruin it?

I opened my eyes to see her smiling at me. And I exhaled sharply (when did I start holding my breath, anyways?) in relief. And she tilted her head upward to place a soft kiss on my lips. She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. And once she pulled her lips from mine, she moved her head back to wear it was, and our foreheads and noses were touching again.

Finally, I took a deep breath, opened my eyes and sat up. She opened her eyes and caught mine. Her hair was kind of messed up, but other than that, nobody would ever guess that she was doing anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was because she was tan, but her face didn't really get red unless she was blushing.

I extended my hand and, still on my knees, helped her sit up. Once she was up, and balanced, I moved forward a little bit and wrapped my arms around her, tightly. She hugged back. I held her for a few minutes, loving every second of it, before I let go of her, and sat down against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest. She moved over next to me, pulled her knees up too, and said, "I hope you don't mind, but I think I'll just stay here tonight."

I grinned. I sort of expected it when I saw her here with her pajamas. So I said, "I would be honored," and I put my arm around her. She leaned her head against my shoulder, and I pulled her as close to me as possible. Then, unable to resist (and not really trying to anyways), I bent over and kissed the top of her head. I didn't lift my head, and just left my lips there. I loved her. And I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anybody else, ever. But I wanted to wait. Not because there was even a faint idea that I didn't want her. There was definitely no chance of that (I had an uncomfortable feeling in my jeans to prove it), but because I wanted to keep her, and I knew moving too fast would be the absolute worst thing to do in that scenario.

So, instead, I asked, "I guess it seems kind of pointless to ask now, but would you be my girlfriend?"

"Mhm." She responded, nodding her head. I could see her smiling. I smiled, still pressing my lips to her head. Even though I knew she was going to say it, I was still thrilled to hear her say it. So I pushed her chin to face me, and I gently kissed her lips, and pressed my forehead to hers again.

"_Je t'aime, _Courtney. _Je t'aime beacoup_." I whispered quietly, breathing in slowly through my nose. The whole evening had gone so perfectly. I could honestly say that I'd never had a better night in my entire life. I'd never been so happy. I'd never felt so content with the world. I closed my eyes.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard, so quietly I could have dreamt it, "_Je t'aime aussi_... Duncan." Just as I drifted into unconsciousness, I smiled. I was so glad.

* * *

Geoff woke up the next morning exactly the same as he woke up every morning—still tired and really hungry. Climbing down from his bunk, he noticed two things immediately; one, that Duncan's bed was still perfectly made, meaning that he'd never come back in last night, and two that somebody was knocking at the door.

"Come in." He called to the knocker, rummaging through his clothes for something clean. He realized, as he did so, that he seriously needed to do some laundry; he was running low on clean socks. He looked up to see who it had been at the door and was surprised to see Bridgette. He grinned, pleased with this pleasant surprise. Then he noticed the look on her face and frowned.

Because Bridgette looked... well, the only good phrase Geoff could think of to describe Bridgette's expression would be "totally freaked." He bit his lip, worrying for a second that he'd missed the challenge, until Bridgette took a deep breath, and said, "Courtney never came back to the cabin last night."

It took Geoff a second to realize what it was Bridgette was inferring—he had to look at Duncan's empty bunk to understand. Then he raised his eyebrows and said, "You don't think..."

"Oh, but I do." Bridgette said, frowning. "I'm sorry Geoff, I know you're friends with him, but I don't trust Duncan at all. We don't know what he's done in the past, and to land himself in Juvie, too? And I know Courtney. She's too proud to refuse a challenge..." Bridgette bit her lip, looking panicked again, and walked to the window. Geoff was certain where Bridgette's glare rested, and he moved over to Bridgette and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to be reassuring.

It had taken him another minute to understand (Geoff was never really quick on the uptake), but he, unlike Bridgette, had some faith in Duncan, and said, "Come on. He may be a criminal, but he's not a bad guy." Bridgette continued to look uneasy, so he said, "If it makes you feel any better, I can talk to him?"

Bridgette nodded. "I intended to talk to Courtney anyways. I know she likes Duncan, but..." She hummed disapprovingly. "Like I said, I don't trust him."

Geoff gave her a smile. "I'll go wake them up." He said, and quickly sidestepped Bridgette and walked out of the cabin, choosing to ignore Bridgette further insinuating, saying, "If they're not already awake that is."

Geoff was confidant as he walked toward the boathouse. He knew Duncan. He was in love with Courtney. Plus, he was smart; smart enough not to blow it by having sex with her so soon. But as he walked towards the boathouse, he slowed down, thinking of what Bridgette said. 'We don't know what he's done in the past, and to land himself in Juvie, too?' Geoff frowned. It was true. He **didn't** know what Duncan had done to land in Juvie. As he approached the boathouse, he almost stopped and went back, not sure he wanted to keep going like that. But he made a promise to Bridgette, and Geoff was nothing if not a man of his word, so he carefully turned the door handle and walked inside.

And immediately wished he hadn't. They weren't doing anything inappropriate; in fact, they were both still sleeping. But the position they were in made Geoff feel incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't lewd or forward, or even suggestive, but one could tell (even someone as imperceptive as Geoff), or rather feel, just how strongly they felt for each other just by how they'd fallen asleep. Duncan's arm was around Courtney, pulling her close to him, and Courtney's head was on Duncan's shoulder. Duncan's head was then facing Courtney's, and his nose was buried in her hair. Both of them had pulled their knees up to their chest, and their fingers were laced and laying in their laps. And the most awkward part of it for Geoff was the small smiles they both wore.

Geoff was absolutely certain that Duncan would not want Geoff seeing him like that. Because Geoff realized then (finally) that Duncan was not as rough-and-tough as he pretended to be. Geoff was also absolutely certain that they hadn't done anything wrong last night, though he wasn't sure how he was so convinced. It could have been intuition, an impulse that was uncommon (but not unheard of) for Geoff. So, he smiled, and walked back out of the boathouse quietly, and shut the door behind him.

When he reached the cabins again, Bridgette almost pounced on him as soon as he entered the door. "Well?!" She asked worriedly, looking as if she were almost driven to tears in her worry. Geoff just smiled.

"No. They didn't do anything. Just fell asleep." He said. "I woke him up for a second, but he just denied it, and said, 'Dude, I'm not like that,' and fell back asleep." He told Bridgette, who sighed in relief.

"I'm still going to talk to Courtney." She said warningly. Geoff would have been worried if he wasn't so strongly convinced that he was right, and just shrugged.

He would keep Duncan's secret. It was the least he could do for a friend.

* * *

I woke up the next morning after I thought I heard the door shut. But when I looked at it, I saw that it was still soundly shut, so I shrugged before realizing that my left arm was kind of stuck.

Then I looked at Courtney, and remembered all that had happened yesterday. And I felt sudden, overwhelming rush of feeling for her that left me dizzy and temporarily blinded. I took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled while my vision came back. Then I turned to face her again, and gently pressed my lips to her head, trying not to wake her. However, it was in vain, because as soon as I shifted, she stirred, and sat up straight. I let go of her hand, not really sure when I'd grabbed it. Or maybe she did. I wasn't sure.

She stretched a little bit, then moved back, and curled up again, leaning back against my shoulder. "Good morning." She said quietly, still sounding tired. I smiled, and grabbed her hand, then laced my fingers with hers. Then I lifted our hands and kissed the back of hers. She blushed slightly.

"You're a lot more... touchy-feely than I thought." She said. I could hear the grin in her voice. If it had been anybody else besides her, I would have been angry. As it were, I just shrugged carefully.

"_Tout le monde a tort quelquefois._" I said quietly. She lifted her head and tilted it to the side, giving me a curious look. I wondered exactly how much French she'd learned if she didn't know what I said, but I didn't care. I kind of liked it better that she didn't know that much French. "Everybody's wrong sometimes." I explained. I went on to say, "Besides, I'd gone so long trying not to hug you or grab your hand or kiss you. Now I'm just making up for lost time." I grinned. She just rolled her eyes, smiled, and leaned back against my shoulder, and I kissed her head again.

* * *

Later, we realized that we eventually had to leave the sanctity of the boathouse. Neither of us wanted to. I didn't just because I enjoyed the time we spent in there. I enjoyed any time spent with her. She didn't want to leave because she knew what she was facing once she left—Bridgette. She'd explained Bridgette to me; how she was very protective of people, especially her friends. I was with her in almost being afraid to leave. Bridgette didn't like me as it was; and though I couldn't possibly bring myself to regret it, I would feel bad if Courtney became blacklisted to Bridgette just for spending the night in here with me.

Eventually, though, we realized that we were both really hungry, and that we both desperately needed to brush our teeth. I'd completely forgotten about the graham crackers until then, but kept them in my bag, just in case Courtney didn't eat a lot for breakfast.

So, standing up, we both stretched. My muscles felt sore and strained; that's what I get for sleeping in the same position all night. Not only was I kind of sore, I felt grungy. I needed to take a shower, but decided I'd do that after the challenge today, considering I had no idea what it was, and didn't want to waste water by taking two showers in one day.

Once we relaxed from stretching, I reached for Courtney's hand, and brought it to my lips again. Again, her face went pink, and I grinned. Then I kissed her on the lips, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her as close to me as possible. She responded, putting one hand on my chest and one on my cheek. I pressed harder, and she pressed back. We were fighting, both trying to push each other. Like yesterday, we were becoming unstable, only this time it was physically, not metaphorically.

So, careful not to startle her or trip, I pushed her backwards so that her back was to the wall, and I put my arms on the wall on either side of her face. My heart was speeding up, and my breathing was ragged, so I broke the kiss for a second so we could breathe, and once I was sure she could breathe too, I lowered my head again and crushed my mouth to hers. She pushed back eagerly, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me closer.

Unlike with yesterday, today I was certain of where the line was; therefore, I was more than comfortable parting my lips and swiping my tongue over her lips. She was perfectly happy to comply, opening her mouth to accommodate my tongue. Her mouth was sweet, if not a little morning-breath-y. I pressed harder, as if trying to make us a single being as opposed to two. She pressed back, obviously with the same goal in mind.

However, where our bodies were separate, I was unsure of where one mouth ended and the other began, and our tongues were no different. It was as if we were connected by mouths alone.

The kiss, like yesterday, grew needy and urgent. I was trying to breathe through my nose as much as possible, but it wasn't enough, so I separated us, both of us gasping for breath. However, neither of us waited for the other to catch their breath before colliding again, mouths open, tongues meeting in the middle.

We ran out of breath again quickly, and decided against trying that for a third time. Instead, we stood there, panting, staring at each other. I felt accomplished. I felt on top of the world. I felt like kissing her again. I felt like kissing her and never letting her go. I felt like suggesting we take it farther than just making out—but as soon as I felt that, I shot it down again like I had yesterday. '_No._' I thought harshly, scolding the part of me that wanted it. '_We already agreed. None of that._' I settled for lowering my head and pressing my lips to hers gently, loving how the contrast felt between being urgent and being gentle.

* * *

It took a few more minutes of being alone together like that before we were finally able to come out and show the world how we felt. She was nervous about going to her cabin, and I was nervous for her. So I decided, without telling her, of course, that I would talk to Bridgette, and try to get her to understand the severity of my feelings. And if she still didn't believe me, well, then, oh well. You can't win them all, and it would be foolish to try.

I held her hand all the way to our cabins, and when she tried to let go for us to separate, I just held on and turned with her towards her cabin. She looked at me strangely, and stopped walking, but I just pulled her arm a little bit to encourage her to keep walking, so she did. She opened the door, and stepped in, and I followed right after her.

As expected, Bridgette was sitting on her bunk, looking slightly upset, and very angry. She looked up and said. "Courtney, you and I are—" Then she saw me, and fell silent. "Can I help you?"

"You and I are going to have to talk." I said calmly. I wasn't afraid of Bridgette. I would not be intimidated by Bridgette. And I would not let Bridgette make Courtney feel ashamed for what she did, because there was no reason Courtney should feel ashamed. I wanted to prevent the problem before it arose. I could feel Courtney's eyes on me, but I didn't turn. I came here to talk to Bridgette, to try to patch things up between us so that there weren't any problems in the future.

As it were, Bridgette just frowned. "I need to talk to Courtney, now."

But I wouldn't have that. "I'm sorry, but I think Courtney wants to take a shower first." I turned to her, and kissed her head. "Go shower." I whispered. She looked surprised. "I'll talk to Bridgette."

Courtney nodded, shocked, and quickly grabbed her stuff. While she was moving, Bridgette and I had a staring war. She glared at me, and I stared impassively back, refusing to be intimidated by her. Courtney bit her lip, kissed my cheek, said, "We'll talk after Bridge," and left, looking apprehensive about leaving the two of us alone.

And now that we were, Bridgette continued to glare, and I moved across the cabin to sit on what I assumed was Courtney's bunk. Once I sat, I took a deep breath, and said, first of all, "We didn't have sex." Her eyes widened. I assumed it was because she was surprised by my bluntness. But I didn't care. I just kept going, slightly irritated that I had to answer to a girl who was the same age as me. But I would do it because if I didn't, she would upset Courtney. "We didn't do anything you wouldn't do with your parents around." I said honestly. Well, I wouldn't mind making out with someone in front of my parents. I don't know about her though. I almost grinned when I thought about it, but tried to keep myself calm. "And, I'll be honest, I don't appreciate you assuming that I would do something like that when we just started dating." I frowned again, serious now. "What do you want me to do to prove to you that I'm not a bad person?"

She stared at me strangely. I wasn't sure what her expression was saying, whether she was angry at me, or was just thinking about what I said. Either way, she responded after a full minute's pause. "There are two things I want you to do for me to believe you." She said, holding up two fingers. "For one, I want you to tell me what you got sent to Juvie for. The other, I want you to tell me--and no holding back--exactly how you feel about her."

"And then you'll believe me?"

"And then I'll believe you."

I won't lie, I wasn't very fond of those terms. I wanted to keep the reasons I'd gone to Juvie between me, my parents, my parole officer and the victims. But if it meant getting Bridgette off of Courtney's back, I would bend over backwards. I would give her the moon. There wasn't a mountain I wouldn't climb or ocean I wouldn't swim to make her happy, so I could, at the very least, admit one of the multiple reasons I went to Juvie. I didn't even have to admit the worst part; Bridgette wouldn't know the difference. As for telling Bridgette how I felt... well, I guess I could do it. It would be incredibly uncomfortable admitting to things like that, but again, mountains, oceans. I could admit a few feelings.

I sighed. "Alright. Well, first things first. To understand why I did what I did, you'd have to know something else about me first. When I was a kid, I..."

* * *

When I was a kid, I received a magnifying glass for my birthday from one of my uncles. I don't remember who it was now, and to be honest, it didn't matter. I carried that magnifying glass with me everywhere. I brought it with me to school. I had it out when I was playing with my friends after school. I put the thing next to my pillow when I went to bed at night. I was obsessed with it.

Well, one day in the middle of summer, it was a really hot day, one of the hottest days Quebec had ever seen. And I had my magnifying glass with me, carrying it in my hand while I was walking home from school. I'd walked with a friend of mine that day, and we were talking about how hot it was when we decided to stop and rest at the park.

What had happened was, where I was resting, the magnifying glass had rested against the edge of the park bench and without noticing, I'd set a piece of newspaper on the ground on fire. Obviously, nobody noticed, because it was under the park bench.

But my friend had been swinging his legs back and forth, and happened to swing it close enough to the fire for his pant leg to catch fire. Entirely on accident, by a series of unfortunate chain reactions, I had set my friend's pant leg on fire.

* * *

"So you got sent to Juvie for accidentally setting your friend's pants on fire?" Bridgette asked, a little dubious.

"Not exactly." I said. "But I **did** get sent to Juvie for..."

* * *

Setting a house on fire.

Outside of Quebec city is a small suburb that I used to ride to on my bike with some friends. We'd go to another friend's house to swim or something.

Well, on the way, there was an old, dilapidated house that nobody lived in. Squatters would occasionally go in there to sleep, or do drugs. But other than that, it was a condemned old building, scheduled for deconstruction in a week anyways. And my friends and I were all sitting outside it on our bikes, daring each other to go inside.

Well, I one-upped all of my friends dares; I told them I'd go inside and set it on fire if they'd pay me. So after they pooled their money, I would have won about seventy-six dollars and thirty-two cents. So I decided that it was worth the price. What's an old building condemned to death compared to seventy-six dollars?

So, carrying my lighter, I walked inside and started pulling apart some wallpaper and floorboards and put them in a pile. So I lit the wallpaper and got the hell out of there. My friends and I ran, and they decided that if they'd heard about it on the news later that night, they'd give me the money the next morning.

* * *

"Obviously, it burned to the ground. I never got that money. Turns out there had been people around that saw me go in, and saw us all run away after I came out." I said, omitting the last detail. The detail that I myself wanted to forget, and managed to forget until people brought Juvie up.

Bridgette was giving me another strange look. It looked sort of like pity and amusement. "Okay, then..." She said, satisfied with my response. Or at the very least, satisfied enough. "So, now, Courtney. How, exactly, do you feel about her?"

It was strange. I could admit to arson and feel just fine about it. But now that I had to admit something personal, something nobody could find out by simply looking my name up online, I clammed up and got nervous. I bit my lip. I knew how I felt about her. I'd told her how I felt about her. But saying it to anyone else? That was out of my comfort zone.

'It's all for her.' I had to tell myself, gritting my teeth. I took a deep breath. "How I feel about Courtney..." I started, feeling a little nauseous. "I don't... I don't think I can put it into words." I said honestly. "I'd say I love her, but it doesn't describe it the right way." I was getting repulsed by how terribly it was coming out. I loved the feeling of it so much better than the explanation. "I wish I could just **show** you what it feels like." I said, frowning. "It would make all of this so much easier."

Bridgette gave me a half smile. "Well, that's kind of impossible." She said, but not being rude about it. "So, keep going."

I nodded, and sighed. I leaned my elbows on my knees, and leaned my weight on my elbows. "It's like... she makes me happier than anything else ever has in my entire life. And my stomach gets all knotted, and my heart races, and it's like I can't breathe." I said, doing another horrible job trying to describe a feeling. "When she finally told me she liked me back, I got dizzy. I couldn't see for almost a minute because I was so dizzy just from being so glad..."

Bridgette nodded. "Okay." Then she smirked, and pulled, from behind her back, something small and square. Upon further inspection, I realized that it was a cell phone. I gave her a strange look for a couple seconds. What was she smirking over a cell phone for? Then, suddenly, I realized something--_cell phones can record messages_.

"You don't mind Courtney hearing all that, do you?" She asked, grinning smugly. I clenched my fists and jaw.

"You set me up!" I shouted, furious. This had all been a set up so that Courtney could get a confession out of me! Was Bridgette even angry at me?! How long had this been going on?!

But she shook her head. "No. Until today, I didn't trust you with her at all. And you did earn some of my trust back." Then she grinned. "But then I thought, 'Wouldn't Courtney love hearing this?' So while you were talking about the arson thing, I took my phone out and started recording once you finished your first story."

I was speechless. This girl was...

The devil.

I stomped out of her cabin angrily. On my way out, I passed Courtney, who just got out of the shower, looking a little apprehensive. When she saw me, she panicked, but I shook my head and said, "It's safe. Go talk to her." In the background, I heard Bridgette chuckling at my expense.

If she'd just **said** she was recording it for Courtney, I would have been able to give a much better explanation.

* * *

For the first time that morning, it occurred to me that I had no idea what time it was. I looked at my watch at realized that it was going on eleven, and Courtney and I had woken up about an hour ago. I groaned. I'd overslept and missed breakfast. Which didn't bother me as much as the fact that Courtney had overslept and missed breakfast, considering she hadn't eaten the day before, and thrown up everything she **did** eat, and then missed breakfast. I was worried about her; maybe more worried than I should have been.

I laid in my bed for a while, waiting for noon to come so we could head over to the challenge site. Courtney, Geoff and I would be competing for our team against Gwen, Heather and Owen. I was excited to just get the challenge over with. I already knew I was voting for Harold if we lost. He was the only logical choice left.

While lying in my bunk, I closed my eyes and put my arms behind my head. I decided that, since Courtney would be hanging out with Bridgette, I would sit and listen to my iPod for a while. What I didn't realize was that I was apparently very tired, and fell asleep quickly.

I was woken up what felt like five minutes later by something being pressed to my lips. I almost jumped before I realized, upon opening my eyes, that it was Courtney. I kissed her back, then pulled my head away. I grinned, and said, "You know, you look pretty good from down here." I winked.

She blushed and said, "Don't be a pig, Duncan." But she was grinning, so I figured I was off the hook. "Come on. It's time for the next challenge." She said, and jumped down from my bunk. I turned in my mattress and jumped down next to her. I kissed the top of her head, and grabbed her hand, and together, we walked to the challenge site.

We were the first ones there except for Bridgette and Geoff. Geoff was hanging upside down from a branch. He waved to us as we approached. Several set producers helped us (or, rather, Courtney, because I was more than capable of climbing the tree on my own) get up to the branch and hang upside down off of it. I wanted to grab Courtney's hand, but was afraid that if I let go of the tree I'd fall, so I kept my hand to myself.

Once the Gopher team arrived and was helped into the tree, the camera crew set up, and soon enough, Chef was giving us the run-down of the final challenge. "What you are experiencing is an ancient form of torture. By now, the blood has begun rushing to your head." Personally, I was starting to get a little dizzy, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. "The next stage is nausea." I did have stomach-knots, but it didn't have anything to do with the challenge; more so it was because of the girl on the branch next to me, and how badly I wanted to reach out and grab her hand. "Followed by dizziness and a flushed appearance." I was dizzy, but I wasn't flushed, as far as I know... "As the blood begins to pool in your eyes. You may experience..."

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground on my back. "Whoa... what just happened?" I asked the closest person to me. It turned out to be Bridgette.

"You passed out and fell off the tree." She said. I sat up really quick, and looked to see that everybody else was still on, including Courtney, who was watching me. Bridgette gave her a thumbs up, so I did too. She smiled back at us.

The next thing I heard was a loud shout; I looked over to see Owen jump up, and Heather crawl out where Owen had just landed. "--**off** of me, you big ox!" She yelled, stomping away. I chuckled.

Then I looked to Courtney, who started to laugh. But instead of slowing down, she just kept laughing and laughing and laughing. Chef eventually grew irritated, and yelled, "Stop laughing this instant!"

"I'm sorry!" She managed to choke out in between laughs. "I can't help it! Haha...WHOA!" She said, then lost her grip on the branch and fell. I jumped up, worried she would hit her head, but she ended up landing on her hands and knees like a cat. Once she landed, she chuckled a few times. Chef walked over to her.

"Now, I expected more out of you, soldier." He said disappointedly, hands on his hips.

Courtney continued to chuckle until she stood up and brushed herself off. I watched interestedly, wondering what she was doing. Then she cleared her throat, and said, "Master Chief? I just have one thing to say to you." She said, still trying to stifle her laughter. Chef just raised an eyebrow.

"And what might that be?" He asked, looking a little confused.

She grinned wider and said, "You **really**... need to take... a chill pill." She said, then burst into laughter.

Every collective jaw in the vicinity dropped, and laughter managed to escape me as she walked over.

"Hehe-yeah!" I laughed and congratulated, giving her a high five. Then she moved closer to me and put her arm around my waist, so I put my arm around her shoulder, saying, "Now **that's** what I'm talking about!"

We both laughed together for a few minutes, before Courtney turned back to the tree, and called, "Okay, Geoffy! It's all up to you!"

Owen, who was shocked either by what Courtney said or the fact that we were now a couple, turned to the tree and said, "You got this, Gwen?"

"Oh yea." She said calmly. She smiled. "I can hang here all day."

"Rock on, sister!" Geoff agreed, grinning his usual wide grin. "I **live **for the head rush! And it feels... soo... goooood..." He said, slowly slipping, slipping, slipping...

And falling from the tree right on top of his head.

"Ooh!" I heard Courtney exclame from next to me, putting her hand to her mouth in worry. "That's going to leave a mark."

Chef made sure that Geoff was okay before saying, "Congratulations, soldier! You've won the Basic Straining challenge!" He declared.

"Yes!" Gwen said, punching her fist into the air. Courtney and I walked over to Geoff to make sure he was okay. Behind us, Gwen jumped down from the tree and was immediately picked up by Owen, who, along with the rest of the Gophers, carried Gwen back to the cabins.

Geoff, on the other hand, slowly stood up, and said, "Aww, I'm sorry, dudes. I totally though I had that, too, but then I got all dizzy, and..."

I waved my hand. "It's no big deal, dude. I mean, we know who's going home tonight anyways, right?" The four of us (Bridgette, Geoff, Courtney and I) looked over to Harold, who was hanging out a ways back by the camera guy, looking at the equipment and picking his nose. Collectively returning our attention back to the group, we all nodded.

* * *

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Courtney. We went for a walk in the woods, or, rather, we walked into the woods a ways and eventually found a tree to sit in. Having brought my knife with me, I sat on the same branch as Courtney and carved while she was talking. I listened intently as she described some of the classes she took, and some of the classes she wanted to take in college. I was reminded of our bet.

"So, then, about that bet we made..." I said, grinning. She smiled.

"What about it?" She asked, turning her head to the side.

"I was thinking..." I said. "You know how the condition you had to keep if you lost was spending all your time with me instead of extracurricular?" She nodded. "I just realized, that's unfair. Because, as long as we're still going at that point, you'll be spending your spare time with me anyways." I grinned. "I just don't think it's fair that your condition for losing is a bonus for you, and if I lose, I lose no matter what."

She just stuck her tongue out at me. "Oh well. We already agreed. Once agreed to, there's no going back on a bet." She said tauntingly, continuing to stick out her tongue.

She was so adorable. I couldn't restrain myself; I reached for her face and pulled it to mine, and kissed her, with her tongue still sticking out at me. She laughed slightly, and kissed back, sticking her tongue out even more. Playing with her, I refused to open my mouth. She eventually pulled back, giggling. "Duncan, how are we supposed to do this if you don't open your mouth?" She asked.

"Oh, that's what you wanted?" I asked, pretending to be surprised. "You should have said something!" She rolled her eyes, and I kissed her again.

We spent the afternoon like that, kissing and joking around and laughing. I saw a side of Courtney I didn't normally see, and I liked that side. She was sweet, and funny, and could take a joke. But I liked uptight Courtney, too. I guess it would be easier to say that there wasn't a side of Courtney I didn't like.

* * *

I eventually finished carving what I'd started; a small skull, with hinges at the jaw so that it opened up into a small cavity. I knew what I was going to put in it; a short letter in French, with my cell number on it. I would give it to her when either of us got voted off, and I would leave it to her to keep in touch. She knew how I felt about her, but I hadn't yet received affirmation of her feelings for me. I wasn't too worried; if she didn't at least like me, she never would have kissed me, and she wouldn't have been with me; but it would be nice to hear it.

Before we headed to dinner, we walked to the confessional. We went in together, since we weren't sending any messages, just voting. While in there, I grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling on it rapidly in French while waiting for her to meticulously fold her vote. I'd just managed to finish writing a short note by the time she submitted her vote. It read, "_J'ai inclus mon numéro de téléphone. M'appeles si tu veux. Je pars que jusqu'à tu. Je t'aime._" Then I included my phone number. Quickly, I scribbled on the back the translation: "I'm including my phone number. Call me if you want. I'm leaving that up to you. I love you."

I folded the note carefully and put it in my pocket. I would save that for later, but sitting in my pocket now, it felt like a bad omen.

Eventually, it was time for dinner; Courtney and I walked there together, hand in hand. We sat next to each other. We kept holding hands the whole time; I ate sloppily with my left hand, but it didn't matter to me. All that mattered was that I had her with me.

It was so simplistic! I was happy when she was around, and sad when she wasn't. But it didn't feel simple. It felt like the most important thing in my life. It was crazy how just one day could affect me so much.

* * *

Directly after dinner, we had to go to the Bonfire Ceremony. I wasn't worried, though. We'd all agreed already that we were voting off Harold, so it didn't surprise me when, after Chris finished his usual narrative introduction, my name was called.

I looked to Courtney and smiled. "Yea!" I said, standing up to go get my marshmallow. Then DJ was called, then Bridgette, and then Geoff.

And now it was in between Courtney and Harold. I grinned at the smug look on Courtney's face.

"Campers." Chris said solemnly. "This... is the final marshmallow of the night." He said. Then paused a very long time. I could almost see Harold sweating this. '_Oh well._' I thought happily. '_He won't suffer for much long--_' "Harold."

"What?!" Courtney shouted shrilly, standing up. "You guys voted for **Harold **over me?!"

I stared, open-mouthed at Harold, feeling, the whole time, as if the world were crashing down around me.


	24. In Which Courtney Leaves

**A/N:** How THIS for a let-down chapter? :P  
Seriously, though, this chapter is SHORT. It's shorter than the shortest short shorts (and they make REAAAAAALLY short shorts these days).

So, before starting the chapter, I would like to say a few things:  
To everybody who reviewed on Basic Straining: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!! THANK YOU TIMES INFINITY!  
And I'm SOOOO sorry I didn't reply to any of you! But we lost the internet at my house, because mom forgot to pay the bill, and, well, I couldn't do it. :/  
So just know that I love you guys, for real, and that you are wonderful human beings and will probably lead great lives in the future.

Second:  
The next chapter will take a LOOOOONG time. I still don't have internet at my house; I'm at a friend's house right now, using her internet, because she's wonderful and and awesome friend. That, and I REALLY need to work on a plot line for the rest of this until Are We There, Yeti? That's my next hurdle. :P  
I've got two chapters plotted out so far, so it won't be too long, but consider me on a short hiatus until I've got the rest of this planned out.

Third:  
Assuming my friend continues to be a friend, and hoping her dad doesn't accidentally unplug the internet again, I am starting a spin-off story called Playa Des Courtney. It's what happens to Courtney from the second she gets voted off until she and Duncan are reunited. So, until I'm able to get to work on TDI again, you guy's'll have that to look forward to. :)

Fourth:  
That's it. :)

Enjoy the short chapter!!

* * *

It was difficult for me to pay attention to what was going on around me. I was shocked. I was upset. I was angry. I was depressed.

But I was mostly angry.

"This is **impossible**!" She shouted in Chris' face. "I demand a recount!"

I approached Chris, furious. "Seriously, dude, I know for a **fact** there were three of us that didn't vote her off!" I shouted, pointing to Geoff and DJ. Chris just shrugged, and shook his head. He snapped his fingers, and Chef just walked forward and pushed Geoff and DJ over.

I was seeing red. This wasn't happening! Who voted Courtney off?! Immediately, my thoughts turned to my team. Who would have voted her off? I obviously wouldn't, and Geoff and DJ were happy for me, so they wouldn't. Bridgette and Courtney were friends. I thought of Harold, but shot that idea down. If he were to have voted anybody off, it would have been me. Maybe Geoff. Bust most likely me.

So I then thought about the remaining Gophers. It would have been easy for any of them to sneak in and change the votes. But who would have done it? Trent, Gwen, LeShawna? No, none of them would have done it, they all liked Courtney, or at least didn't hate her. Lindsay wasn't smart enough to do it, and Heather...

Heather.

Of course! Heather saw Courtney as her main competition, and sought to get rid of her as soon as possible! I scowled at myself. I should have checked the votes! What was I thinking?!

I was made to be even angrier when Chef and Chris grabbed Courtney by the arms and started pulling her away. Courtney struggled, and if Geoff and DJ hadn't stopped me, I was about to run forward and attack. I continued to struggle against Geoff and DJ (and was later proud of how tough of a fight I put up) as Chris and Chef dragged Courtney, kicking and screaming, to the Boat of Losers. "I do not concede! I DO NOT CONCEDE!"

Finally, Geoff and DJ let me go when I gave up. I ran forward a little bit, scowling. To nobody in particular, I said, "Oh, man, this sucks!" I could feel my voice crack. This couldn't be happening. Not so soon! This wasn't fair! What had I done, Karma? I thought I was being better! Was this over Harold? Was that what this was? I'd change! I'd leave him alone! Just let her stay!

"I was your only hope! I was a counselor in training!" She shouted back. I was too late to save her by praying; I felt like I was going to... cry. It must have shown on my face, because I felt Geoff's hand on my shoulder. Chris and Chef threw Courtney into the boat, and I just barely heard Courtney say, "You are going to hear from my attorney!" Then the boat slowly pulled away, and she was gone.

I sighed, and put my hands in my pockets... to remember the skull and message I'd carved for her. Running back down the dock, passing Chef and Chris, I shouted, "Courtney, wait!" She stood up and looked over at me. I tossed the skull. "I made this for you!"

"Duncan!" She called. Then she caught it, and looked at it. She got a strange expression on her face, and said, "Okay, this is totally weird and creepy, but... I love it!" Then she waved, and I waved back, feeling my heart shatter. "I'll never forget you!" I kept waving until the boat turned around the edge of the island and disappeared. Then I dropped my arm, and sighed.

That was that. The girl I'd spent the entire summer trying to win over, gone. Just as I'd finally won. Just when we could finally be together.

I sat on the edge of the dock, bringing my legs up to my chest, and wrapping my arms around my knees. I watched the water, watched the ripples spread and eventually fade out. I watched the waves pull forward over themselves, in a rush to crash against the shore and die.

Okay, so I was feeling a little depressed. Who could blame me? Karma finally decided to pay me back for all the pranks I'd pulled on Harold, and, even though I was depressed, I knew I deserved it. If I'd known the consequences, though, I never would have done any of it. Who knew heartbreak was so painful? I sure didn't. I don't think, before this summer, I'd even had a heart to break.

Then I shook my head. I was just being melodramatic. It wasn't like I'd never see her again. I gave her the skull with my message in it. She would be able to call me whenever she wanted, or text me. We could still see each other every now and then. She could come up to Quebec. She would like it there. Or I could go to Markham. It didn't really matter. Wherever she was, I would be happy, which explained why I was so miserable on the island without her.

I sighed, and stood up. It was getting late, and I needed to get some sleep. I was exhausted already, and it was only eight o'clock at the latest. I always did get sleepy when I was upset. I looked out at the water for a few more minutes before sighing again, turning towards the cabins and putting my hands in my pockets.

In my right pocket, I felt something small, folded up. I pulled it out of my pocket, and slowed down gradually, looking at the small piece of paper, until I was completely frozen.

Because it couldn't be what I thought it was.

And if it was, I wasn't really sure what I would do.

With shaking hands, I carefully, slowly opened the sheet of paper, hoping and praying that it wasn't what I thought it was. I closed my eyes before I'd completely opened it, and once it was open, I opened my eyes and looked down.

And my heart sank so far down I couldn't feel it anymore. Because it was exactly what I'd thought it was.

The note I was supposed to put in the skull for Courtney had, for the past hour or so, been sitting, inoffensively and unnoticed, in my pocket.

Meaning Courtney had no way of getting a hold of me ever again.

Meaning...

I dropped the note, stepped on it until it was buried into the dirt, and ran. I wasn't aiming for anywhere in particular, but I ended up in the woods in front of the tree with the large knot where I'd stored the food wrappers and boxes from yesterday, and the violin. I took out the garbage, and, right there in the middle of the forest, started it all on fire. Then I grabbed the violin and stood there in front of the fire, debating over whether or not I wanted to burn the pieces.

I headed back to my cabin hours later. It had taken me hours to decide what to do, and I was happy with my decision. Or at least, as happy as I could have been at that point, which wasn't very.

I'd lost all hope of ever getting into contact with her again. So, the first girl I'd ever loved... Gone.

Forever.

* * *

Geoff, DJ and Harold were already asleep, and, without bothering to change into my pajamas, I climbed into bed, and buried my face into my pillow. I wanted to puke and hit something all at the same time. I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid as to forget to put the note in the skull. What was I thinking?! Where was my mind then?!

I fell asleep that night, nauseous, and anxious, hoping and praying the guys didn't notice the violin-shaped bump under the clothes in my bag.

* * *

**A/N:** So, hopefully that'll solve your question for now about the violin. :P  
Again, I'm sorry it's so short!! I wanted it to be this nice, long, Duncan-angst chapter, but...  
It just didn't come out that way. :(

The next chapter will also have angst, so don't worry.  
But hopefully, some happiness, too.  
However, I don't know yet.  
So, here's hoping! :)

Until the next chapter, my dear readers!


	25. XTreme Torture

**A/N:** Hey guys. Finally finished the long-awaited chapter. :)  
I gotta tell you all. You have no idea how hard it was for me not to break canon for this chapter and just let him get the boot. Bu_u_u_u_ut I decided that, one, it would make their inevitable reunion so much sweeter if I didn't, and, two, hey. I'm not gonna lie. If ever you have to opportunity to hold something over someone's head, do it. It's tons of fun. :P

Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm no Chris. xD

Anyhoosits, I'm in a good mood. See, I saw my brother for the first time in almost two years a couple days ago. That was pretty nice. (If you read Playa Des Courtney, and wondered about the A/N to the most recent chapter, that's what I was on about).  
Speaking of, I've been getting some nice feedback on my spin-off, Playa Des Courtney. If you haven't checked it out yet, you might want to, but you don't have to. I'm about four chapters in. It's about Courtney's life after she gets kicked off. What she's going through. How she's handling her defeat. It's pretty fun.

I don't know about you guys, but I've been having a wonderful summer break. I haven't had a miserable day since the last day of exams. :D It's been nice and chilly and rainy here where I live, which is nice for me. I like chilly and rainy. It's stifling and sunny that I can't stand. :)

Alright, so, one more thing I want to do before I let y'all loose:  
Readers: You're the bread to my PB&J sandwich. You hold the good stuff. :)  
Reviewers: You're the filling to my PB&J sandwich. You ARE the good stuff.  
Is it terribly obvious that I'm kind of hungry?  
Oh well.

Oh, wait. There is one more thing I want to do before I let y'all loose:  
Seriously, guys. You have all been great. I wish I could give each and every one of you some serious _love squeezin's_.  
Extra _love squeezin's_ to whoever can tell me the reference. :)

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

I was late waking up the next morning. I was late waking up the day before that, and the day before that, too. Since Courtney had been voted off two days ago, I was having troubles falling asleep. Once I was asleep, I woke up frequently during the night, plagued by nightmares; they varied from night to night, but they were all basically the same. Every night, I dreamt that I went to see Courtney at her house, but she was with someone else. And I would stand outside her window and watch, in silent horror, as they kissed, and touched, and... well, I'm sure you get the picture. Then I would wake up, angry and depressed and confused. Every morning.

And I was exhausted. Every time I fell back asleep, I would have that dream again, and it would wake me up every time. I was sick of it. I was getting ready to get myself kicked off, just so I could find her and kiss her and make the stupid dream go away.

I finally decided to stop trying to sleep the morning of the next challenge, and instead grabbed my iPod and put on a loud song to keep me from sleeping. I smiled when my favorite song came on, and I nodded my head in time to the rhythm. And that's how I spent the morning until, during a break in the song, I heard someone shout from outside the cabin. I took off my headphones, put on some clothes, and walked outside to see a small group clustered around Chris, who was sitting in the cockpit of a plane, grinning at us demonically. I glared.

I had debated, during the interval between challenges, finding Chris wherever he was staying, and punching him in the face. I would have, too. I felt like there was nothing left of me. This is probably the corniest thing I'd ever so much as thought, but she had my heart. And she took it with her. I felt empty. I felt sick. And God damn it, I was miserable.

The guys had attempted to cheer me up, but nothing worked. They'd invited me to go swim with them, to go play rugby, to go for a walk, to just sit out on the steps, but I could not be coerced. Harold even tried cheering me up, too, by saying that it was crazy that Courtney got voted off, because he hadn't voted for her. I smiled a bit when he said that; it surprisingly made me feel a little bit better. At least now I knew that it was someone from the Gophers. I was closer to finding out who did it, so that I could confront them and… well, I wasn't exactly sure what I'd do then. Something violent, probably.

I stayed in my bed the whole three days, except for the few times I got up to pee. I didn't eat. I wasn't hungry anyways. I just stayed in my bed and let myself be miserable. I'd get over it eventually. And if I didn't, the rest of my team would just vote me off, and then I could go home and be miserable until I was able to find her.

As I approached, I heard Gwen groan and say, "It's too early for this!"

I groaned too, thinking, '_You're telling me._' I hadn't had a good night's sleep in days, and it was really starting to wear me down.

"This week, you'll participate in three challenges. First up," here, he lifted a megaphone to his mouth and said, "Extreme sofa-bed sky-diving!" Then he lowered the megaphone and said, "Contestants will plummet... uh, sky-dive to a waiting sofa-bed target below." As he was speaking, Chef demonstrated by jumping out of the back of the plane, dressed in his army attire. After he jumped the sofa closed up in on him. If I hadn't been so tired and miserable, I would have laughed. "Of course, you'll be skydiving from five-thousand feet! And using these." He threw two crusty old bags out of his window, and, upon further inspection, I realized that they were two very old parachutes. I gasped. Could that even be legal? To let two amateurs attempt to skydive with very old, possibly broken parachutes?

As he was rummaging in his pocket for a piece of paper, he said, "Our lucky contestants are... Trent and DJ."

I looked over to both of them, feeling sympathetic. DJ looked terrified, and Trent looked, well, as calm as ever. He smiled to DJ, and said, "Sure. Why not? You know what they say on Blackcombe Mountain, bro. 'The best glimpse of Heaven's on the way into Hell.'" Then he grinned, and poked DJ in the chest. "Let's do this." I might have just been imagining it, but Trent seemed almost excited to do this.

DJ just looked panicked, and said, "Yea. Uh, sure. Bring it on."

Chris had something to say, though. "Not so fast! Because, the second challenge of the day is," again, he lifted to megaphone to his mouth and said, "Extreme rodeo moose-riding!" He walked over to the moose, and, popping into the camera's viewfinder, said, "Contestants will rodeo ride the great Canadian bucking moose for eight seconds, or get hoofed into a giant pile of socks from the lost and found."

"That stank pile ain't nothing but laundry day back home." LeShawna jumped in skeptically.

Chris sidled up next to her, grinning. "It's your lucky day LeShawna. You're riding for Gophers, and Geoff, you'll ride for Bass." Geoff cheered. Then, he and LeShawna exchanged a competitive look.

Owen walked up to the moose, and looked it straight in the eye. "He doesn't look too buck-y to me." Then his yes narrowed, and he said, "Hi, beautiful." The moose snorted, then hoofed him in the face, sending him falling backwards.

Chris ignored him, saying through his megaphone, "And, the final challenge: extreme Seadoo water-skiing! Contestants will water-ski a race course grabbing as many flags as they can before crossing the finish line, while a member from the opposing team drives the Seadoo."

Stomping up to him, Heather asked, "How can we water-ski without water?" She had a point, and I crossed my arms.

He just laughed. "It's **really** hard. Check it out!" Then he looked behind him as we watched Chef water-ski off a cliff, then roll over and over until he hit a tree. Chris just chuckled. "Awesome!"

"Harold, you'll ski for Killer Bass," he said, to Harold's delight, "And, Lindsay, for the Screaming Gophers."

"Cool! I can model my new bikini!" She said, striking several uncomfortable poses. I just raised an eyebrow at her. She was so superficial. So naïve. So... not Courtney. My heart sank just to think her name.

"Now, for the cool swag!" Chris carried on, as if he hadn't heard Lindsay at all. "Whoever scores the most challenges gets bragging rights for the night, saves their butts from elimination, and wins a tricked-out, multi-massage, mobile shower." He said. Over by said shower, Chef played a harp. I rolled my eyes. It was a cool shower, don't get me wrong, but not really worth it. Nothing but going home was worth it.

However, the others were amazed. "Can it be?" asked Heather, her jaw halfway to the ground.

Chris just smiled and nodded. "Oh, it be."

Owen and I were on the same page. "Oh, a shower? How about something good?" He asked, shoving another marshmallow into his already-full mouth.

Heather was not having that. "Listen to me you marshmallow-eating goof. We are gonna win that shower if it's the last thing we do, got it?!"

Owen just about peed his pants. He also started choking on a marshmallow, and Harold had to smack his back to dislodge it. He coughed it up so hard, it went ricocheting out of his mouth and hit Heather in the back of the head. I chuckled. Depressed or not, slap-stick was slap-stick.

Chris got back into his plane, and said, "Okay, gang. Ciao for brekkie, then report back in twenty minutes for the extreme sports challenge!" Then he took off, sending dirt up in everybody's faces, causing us all to start choking.

* * *

Not even five minutes later, I found myself back in my cabin, leaning up against my bunk, listening to my iPod again. I didn't want to eat. Not yet. I still couldn't handle food. My stomach was all in knots, punishing me for being a complete and total idiot and forgetting to put the stupid note in the stupid effing skull.

Twenty minutes later, I headed back to the clear spot where the challenge was, ignoring the strange or sympathetic looks everybody was giving me, and taking deep breaths. I had to keep composed while the cameras were rolling. It was one thing for the guys to see me like this. It was a completely different thing for the entire viewing world to see me that way, especially when there was one person in the entire viewing world I didn't want to make guilty. It wasn't her fault she got voted off, and I didn't want her to feel bad by seeing me be miserable.

I sat down on one of the sofas, and put my arms behind my head. I had to relax. Take deep breaths. '_Relax, Duncan. It'll all be over soon._' I chanted it in my head like a mantra. Maybe it's because I was trying so hard, or maybe it was because my body was finally worn out from lack of adequate food and sleep, but I actually managed to relax as Chris flew the plane into the space right behind me.

After he came to a stop, he said, "Now, remember, ground teams can wheelie the sofa beds wherever they want in order to help their comrade with the landing."

"Sayonara, Trent." Heather said, after tracing something on the ground, which I then realized was a chalk outline of a person. For a freehand, it was surprisingly good. "I hope your attempts to impress weird goth girl are worth the chalk outline."

He and Gwen looked temporarily panicked, before Gwen said, "Did you ever think that maybe Trent's doing this as a form of self-expression? Like... Haiku?" She finished, looking at him hopefully. He just raised his eyebrow, looking dumbstruck, as everybody who'd heard Gwen looked at her funny. Her face just fell, and she just said, "Or not." I grinned, wondering where that came from.

After that, Trent and DJ boarded the plane, and I watched as Trent waved good-bye to Gwen, and I saw DJ get down on his hands and knees and start praying. I rolled my eyes. '_They must have forgotten that they can't possibly die from doing this._' The inner voice said, rolling his eyes with me.

* * *

After the plane took off, the rest of us on the ground hung out for a bit. I stayed sitting on the sofa, enjoying how relaxed I was feeling. On the other hand, now that my stomach had let go, I was starting to feel kind of hungry, and very tired. I sighed, and decided I would take a quick nap during the next challenge.

Next thing I knew, the camera crew told us that they would be jumping shortly, so we had to get ready.

I jumped off the sofa bed and stretched out. My limbs felt stiff, my back was hurting, and my head was pounding. But my stomach felt clear, and I felt strangely alert, despite my fatigue.

Then, all of a sudden, Trent came hurtling toward the ground, obviously having forgotten to pull his parachute cord. I winced as he hit the ground with a loud thud, making a tiny crater in the sand.

Next was DJ. As we wheeled the sofa towards the beach, I heard Bridgette talking to Geoff.

"You know what's really romantic?" She asked him.

"Uh... writing someone's name in the snow with your pee?" He asked. I looked to Harold, and we both started chuckling.

There was a pause in their conversation, until Bridgette said, "Uh, actually, I was thinking more of the written word."

Geoff chuckled now. "Ooh, you mean a tattoo! Oh, yea, I've got one on my butt, you want to see?" He asked, turning away from her and sticking his butt out. She looked repulsed, and I just watched the two of them, and grinned. Then, I looked up as I heard DJ screaming like a banshee.

He was floating back and forth, and as he went, we ran along under him, pushing the sofa bed as quickly as possible. Then, softly, he landed on the sofa, with his eyes still closed, still wailing like a baby, until he opened his eyes. We all cheered, pleased with our success.

DJ was patting himself all over, checking to make sure everything was there and nothing was broken, when suddenly, the bed folded back into the sofa, trapping DJ inside. The four of us on the outside simply whistled and walked away, pretending not to notice.

* * *

Chris landed the plane elsewhere, shouting through his megaphone, "Gophers lose, Bass win. One, zero!"

I walked back to the cabin. My pleasure at our winning the first challenge was instantly gone, only to be replaced by the same gut-wrenching depressed that was bothering me earlier. My fatigue was still there, but I knew that I could try to sleep all I wanted, and I wouldn't fall asleep.

Still, I wanted to at least try. So, after Chris announced that the next challenge would start soon, I headed back to my cabin, and climbed into my bunk. I laid myself down on my side, and shut my eyes. There was no sound around me. Nothing to distract me. Again, I chanted in my head, "Relax, Duncan, relax." It didn't work. I just sat there, feeling stupid and miserable and sick. It was a very unpleasant way of spending my time.

But I wasn't ready to be back out with the others, and I definitely wasn't ready to be back out in front of the cameras. So instead, I walked around inside the cabin, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about her, the key word here being 'trying.' I wasn't able to get her out of my head, and, at this point, I was starting to get a little irritated. It wasn't just that I missed her. It was that she was the sole occupant of my thoughts. I couldn't think about anything else but her.

For a split second, I wished that I hadn't met her. Then, out of nowhere, my heart wrenched so painfully I had to sit down, for fear my legs would give out from under me. Such was my love for her, my need to be with her, my obsession with just the thought of her that if I even imagined a world where I hadn't met her, I shut down completely.

Then I decided. To hell with this championship and everybody in it. I needed to be with her again. I felt so weak, but I had to give in. I couldn't take it anymore. The heartbreak was killing me. I decided I would throw the challenge and get myself voted off. I couldn't wish that I'd never met her, but I could definitely wish that I didn't have a heart to break.

* * *

I headed back over to the challenge-site just as Chris rolled in on his four-wheeler, shouting through his megaphone, "So, we have a tie! Whoever wins the extreme Seadoo water-ski challenge wins invincibility." He said, and just as he finished, Lindsay shouted, "I'm ready!"

I gasped when I looked at her. She was wearing a green bikini that showed a lot of skin. And, the second I looked at her, I imagined Courtney wearing it, and the overwhelming nausea made me come about three seconds away from throwing up. But I took a deep breath and kept the bile down. There was no need for me to react that way. I was going to throw the challenge anyways.

"We are so dead." Heather groaned. "Unless..." Then she lifted her arm, and in her hand was a set of keys. "I get to drive the wave-jumper!" I gasped. If she was driving the wave-jumper, then Harold might screw up, and if I knew my team, they'd vote Harold off before me. I glared at Heather, who just bounded away towards the wave-jumper, as LeShawna, who was sitting on the ground, said, "Just win the dang shower so I can get my hair did."

* * *

Harold, looking nervous, stood atop his water skis, just as awkward as ever. If he screwed this up, then I'd have to do something **really** stupid to get myself voted off.

Then, Heather took off, and Harold instantly fell to the ground, taking in and coughing out mud as he went. I groaned. There was no way he could do this. Then, from the speaker on top of the totem poll, I heard Chris's voice say, "Flag one for Bass!" I grinned.

Harold went on to collect all five flags, and I was feeling pretty hopeful. All there was left for me to do was blow the challenge, and then—

"I don't know what Heather did to make Harold lose his concentration, but it's a total **wipeout** for the Bass team!"

My good mood instantly evaporated. Great. Now I was stuck here for three more days. And that was assuming we lost the next challenge. I groaned.

However, I was still determined to give it a shot. It would look incidental, of course, so I didn't blow my cover. My façade was everything I had, the only thing I really had left.

I climbed onto the wave jumper, a little nervous for what I was about to do. '_This might hurt a little._' The inner voice warned. I laughed at it. As if I was worried about physical pain anymore! There wasn't a torture on earth comparable to the pain of heartbreak.

Lindsay stood on the water skis behind me, looking far more confident than Harold had. That was good. She'd probably been waterskiing before. She could do this. I put all my faith in her. She was my last hope.

* * *

"He has to cross!" Chris said, shouting at me through his megaphone.

"Says you!" I screamed, before letting go of the handles. As it went, speeding up, I shouted as loud as I could. I knew it was coming before it did. I had anticipated it. Hopefully, my team would get the hint and vote me off, but I didn't think they would. Then, the wave-runner swerved all over the place before hitting a rock hard enough to throw me forward into a tree, and propel Lindsay to victory.

It hurt more than I expected it would. I felt my nose break, and I could almost feel the black eyes forming. Some of my hair tore out, and one of my ear piercings stabbed my neck right under it. I was surprised it didn't tear right out, but I was glad it didn't. And still none of the pain on my face was bad enough to equal the pain in my heart.

"Sorry about that, Doug, I just **really** wanted that shower!" She shouted at me, still skiing forward. I pulled myself out of the tree, sighing and shouting back, "Whatever!"

I climbed down carefully. Both of my arms and both of my shins were severely scratched, and I make have also broken a few fingers, making climbing down from the tree a total pain. The cameras had all shut off and the paramedics were running forward. They shouted at me not to climb down. I didn't listen. They told me to stay on the lowest branch and wait for someone to help me down. Instead, I jumped down from the lowest branch, which was still a good ten feet or so in the air. I landed on my feet, not in the least bit affected.

Once I hit the ground, they swarmed around me. In the distance, I saw Harold with an ice-pack on his forehead, walking away in relief. He grinned at me apologetically. I shrugged. It didn't matter. I wouldn't tolerate them being around me anyways.

They tried to get me to sit down, let them look at my nose, and try to fix it. Before they did, I rolled my eyes, and pushed my nose back into place. It hurt, badly, and caused my nose to bleed all over the place, but I didn't care. I just wiped it on my sleeve and stood up. The medics looked affronted and a little bit disgusted, and tried to get me to sit back down.

"Look, I'm fine, okay? Just a broken nose and some scratches, it's no big deal." I scowled. A few of them backed off, but the braver ones stayed, and forcibly pushed me back down onto the barstool they'd brought for me. I growled in frustration before giving in. Whatever. If they wanted to waste their time, that was their problem. I had nothing but free time to waste now anyways.

They put antiseptic on my scratches, then bandaged them all up. They wrapped my fingers in gauze and taped them. They gave me ice to put on my nose to keep it from swelling and to prevent my eyes from getting any darker. They also gave me some sort of soothing lotion to put in my hair to keep my scalp from hurting because of all the hair getting pulled out. Once they were gone, I chucked all of it as hard as I could into the forest. Except the bandages on my arms and legs. They could stay.

* * *

I think I'd possibly gone completely mad after that, because from the moment I'd tried to get the paramedics to get away from me until later in the night, I was not only angry, constantly, but I also, for some reason, wanted to stay in the game. I don't know why. I don't even have a theory. But from that point on, I didn't want to leave the island. I had a good feeling about staying put. About carrying on. About fighting my hardest to win.

At the Bonfire Ceremony that night, I felt completely exhausted. I still wasn't hungry (and I didn't expect to be for another while), but I was tired. The heartbreak wasn't gone, but it was gone enough. I would sleep that night, and the next night, and every night until I won or got kicked off, so that I could fight my hardest. I was going to win, and there wasn't a thing in the world that would stop me.

"As you know, if you do not receive a marshmallow, you will be forced to walk the Dock of Shame, and you can never, **ever** return to camp." He said, grinning at all of us. Then he picked up two marshmallows, and said, "Bridgette and DJ? You guys are safe." They got up, smiling, and grabbed their marshmallows. Picking up another marshmallow, Chris walked over to the trees, and threw it to Geoff, saying through his beloved megaphone, "Geoff! You're safe too!"

He waved, and, catching his marshmallow, said, "Muchos luchos, compadre!"

Then he came back and looked at me and Harold. Harold, for some reason, was smiling, while I just leaned my elbows on my knees and leaned my head on my hands. He picked up the tray, which held one marshmallow, and walked over to the fire again. "Okay. That leaves Harold, who bailed big for reasons unknown," Harold just sat there, grinning, looking proud, "And Duncan, who bailed even bigger because Lindsay left him circling the drain in a shameless—" I couldn't take it any more. I was tired. I was miserable. I was angry. And I was not going to sit there and let him taunt me any more.

I stood up and walked over to him, growling through my teeth. "The chick... was determined." I snarled, grabbing the front of his shirt in a very threatening manner.

"Which is why you're safe." He choked out, for once not wearing his unnecessary and unwanted smile. I grinned, and grabbed the marshmallow from out of his hand. Then he looked at Harold and said, "Harold, sorry dude. You're done like dinner."

For some reason, Harold continued to just sit there and look proud of himself. He looked completely relaxed, his legs outstretched and his arms crossed over his chest. I wondered what it was that he did to make himself so happy. Then I wondered where I could get some of that.

Grabbing his luggage from the cabin, he came back down, and I gave him a high five. What could I say? He had sort of grown on me. "Well, it's been fun guys." He said, as he walked towards the Dock of Shame. I waved shortly before heading back to the cabin for some much-needed rest.

As I walked up to the cabins, a few Gophers were heading down. They looked at my curiously, and I said, "Harold." They nodded, and we continued on our separate ways.

From my cabin door, I could see the dock, and I was surprised to turn around and see Harold kissing LeShawna. I wondered where the hell I'd been to have missed that. I wondered vaguely if it had anything to do with that love note Gwen and Bridgette had been trying to figure out all day. Deciding I didn't care, I climbed into my bunk and fell instantly asleep, hoping and praying I didn't dream again.


	26. Brunch of Disgustingness

**A/N:** Hey guys! I'm baaack!

This chapter WAS supposed to be in celebration of me getting my internet back, but, like almost every other promise made to me, the promise was broken. As was my heart.  
No, I'm just kidding. :P

Anyways. This chapter. There's a bit of angsty swearing, and some general angst, but it's not half as bad as the last few chapters.  
And, not to be advertising myself (lol!), don't forget! If you haven't yet, you might want to check out my spin-off, Playa Des Courtney. It's not necessary, but it might help you to understand Courtney a little bit better when we get back to her.

Which, by the way, is in **TEN CHAPTERS**, if my math is right.  
:)

One more thing before I let you go. In some reviews or PMs, I've been getting a butt load of questions about both series, but since I don't have internet, and am currently using my neighbor's wi-fi, I can't check all the reviews for the questions, because I can only be online for a few minutes.  
So, I want you, dear reader, to come up with **any question** you can **possibly** think of regarding **Total Duncan Island** or the spin-off **Playa Des Courtney**. You can review it, or send it via PM, and (since I should be getting internet back next week, and even if I don't, I'll just stay on long enough to answer all your questions. And then I'll post them, either as a separate chapter, or just in the author's note and the **END** of the next update.  
But ask quickly, because I'm already halfway done with the next chapter. =]

Actually, now it's one more thing:  
Readers: You are the _italics_ of my life. You're beautiful and always there when I need you to be.  
Reviewers: You are the **BOLD** of my life. You attract my attention and stand out in my head and in my heart.  
((Again, joking. About the heart part anyways. xP))

So, that's that!  
Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

When I woke up on the next challenge day, I felt jittery, as if I'd just downed a large energy drink, and it was just starting to take effect. Because it was still early, and because I'd showered last night after playing a two-on-two game of football with Trent, DJ and Geoff (Owen refereed) the guys, I decided I would go for a walk to pass the time until breakfast.

Thankfully, over the past couple of days, I had finished moping. I still missed her, and thinking about what could have been still hurt, but I could deal with it. Admittedly, though, I acted a little bit more aggressively than I would have, tackling the guys rougher when we played sports, or making harsher comments, but other than that, I was pretty much over it. I would play the game, and if I lost, so be it. I would go back to Juvie silently, then get back in school and apply for the same college as her. If I made it in, then I made it in, but if I didn't, then she and I just weren't meant to be, and I would learn to live with it.

In simpler terms, I guess one could say that I'd almost given up hope.

Apart from healing mentally, though, I was still healing physically, too. Though my nose wasn't broken anymore, it was still very sore from being catapulted into a tree. The bruises under my eyes had gone away, but my nose was still a tender area. The scratches on my arms and legs were healing, slowly, but they'd healed enough to allow me to remove the bandages. Several of my fingers were still broken, too, which made doing just about anything very painful. But I dealt with it. It wasn't a big deal. I'd had worse.

I walked completely around the lake, going in one direction before turning back and going the opposite way. By the time I was done, it was about time for breakfast, so I headed to the Main Lodge, took a seat at the Bass table, and set my head down. The good thing about having given up hope was that I didn't have anything to look forward to; therefore, I didn't dread anything either. I wasn't nervous about the challenge, nor was I nervous about being eliminated. I just knew that the challenge would be a pain, and I knew that there was always the possibility of being eliminated.

To be honest, it was slightly more pleasant than before. I don't know who'd said it, but whoever **had** said "it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" was completely right. Because once you get over serious heartbreak, nothing fazes you anymore, and it feels pretty good. No more surprises.

While I was musing, the camera crew set up by the far wall, and Chris and Chef walked in before the rest of the campers filed in slowly. Nobody was surprised to see me already there. I'd always been an early riser, and now that I was, for the most part, back to normal, they sort of expected me to be back on track.

As he walked in, Trent put his hand to his face and said, "What? No breakfast?"

Chef and Chris chuckled, and Chris said, "Oh, don't worry, bro. There will be plenty of food later on." Then he and Chef laughed sadistically. If I had any feelings left at all, I might have been worried. As it were, I didn't react to anything at all, except to get slightly angry at the sight of Heather.

I **knew** she was behind Courtney's elimination. Who else would it have been? None of the guys would have done it except Harold, but Harold wouldn't have voted for Courtney. Bridgette wouldn't have done it, and Courtney was friendly with everybody on the Gopher team except for Heather. Not only did Heather seem the most likely, but she also had a motive: competition. And even though I was over the fact that I would never see Courtney again, I couldn't help but stay angry at Heather for being the cause of all this damage.

As LeShawna walked in, she asked, "What are you two bozos so giggly about?" The two sadists just shared a look and laughed again, and LeShawna just walked away, rolling her eyes, aware that she was being ignored.

"Congratulations to the final ten campers for reaching the halfway mark in the competition!" Chris began, his voice cracking in an attempt to stifle laughter. "You'll all be on the jury for the final episode."

"Got the pow-ah! Yea!" Geoff cheered from in front of me.

"The two teams will become one next week. But first, all the girls will be moved to the Gopher cabin, and all the guys will stay in the Bass cabin." I looked over to the Gopher table to see Trent and Owen looking at us nervously. I frowned. They wouldn't have any problems, so long as Owen kept his gnarly odor to himself. "This week's challenge," Chris went on, as if what he'd just told us was nothing to get worked up about. "Is as old as history itself. A battle of the sexes." I looked over to the girls on the Gopher team to see Lindsay eyeing us all with a confused expression on her face.

So, naturally, I did the first thing that occurred to me that might irritate her; after all, she **was** Heather's accomplice. I winked at her suggestively, and she just stuck her tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes and looked back to Chris. "After everyone is settled in, I'll announce the challenge, and then you'll have a, uh... bite to... eat." He finished, just as his voice cracked in amusement. He quickly regained composure, and said, "Ready for a little good news? This week, no one will be kicked off." We all cheered, and I grinned. Cool. Nothing to have sweated about in the first place. I almost snorted. '_As if you would have._' The inner voice said.

Lately, the inner voice and I hadn't been speaking much. We hadn't been on the best of terms since after Courtney had been voted off. '_I **told** you to put that note in the skull as soon as you wrote it!_' He nagged. I tuned him out. I figured that that was what had been pissing him off lately; not that I hadn't listened to him, but that when he started to say "I told you so," I got rid of him. Whatever. He was only a product of my schizophrenic mind anyways. I didn't need him. I was perfectly fine before he showed up, so I should be able to survive now that he was (hopefully) gone.

"It's all for reward, and it's a **good** one." Chris emphasized. I was surprised to find that I was actually excited about this. Chris may be a lot of things, but he's not the type to exaggerate. And sure, he may be a sarcastic ass, but when it came to the reward challenges, he was usually sincere.

Then he clapped his hands and said, "Okay! Time to relocate! Let's move!" Then he and Chef exchanged one last glance and chuckled again, leaving a feeling of dread in everybody who still had emotions to spare.

* * *

I headed back to the cabin behind Geoff, passing Bridgette as I did so. I know she didn't deserve it, but I was still resentful against Bridgette for all that had happened during the Basic Straining challenge. First, for her holding some prejudiced, self-righteous grudge against me just because Courtney liked me and I'd been to Juvie. Second, for her requiring me to tell her what I'd done to land myself in Juvie, and third, for not telling me she was recording me when I admitted how I felt about Courtney. Then there were all the dirty looks she gave me, as well as her harsh behavior towards me ever since the contest began. To be honest, she was lucky I didn't care what she thought about me, or else we would have run into some serious problems a long time ago.

As we walked, I watched Geoff glance back at her out of the corner of his eyes, and realized that this split would land them on separate teams. But I couldn't feel sympathetic towards Geoff. At least his love-interest was still here. Separate teams or not, they could still see each other. They still had time to be together, to exchange numbers, to be a couple. They still had time to say good-bye, as one of them would eventually have to do.

I'll be the first to admit that I was jealous of them; jealous to the point of contempt. They were lucky. They still had each other. Hell, everyone on this island still had someone to hang around with. Except me, Duncan, the juvenile delinquent who just recently banished the voices from his head.

Sure, I had friends on the island, but nobody to really talk to. I couldn't talk to anybody else on this island the way I could to Courtney. With Courtney, I could drop my act and be… well, myself. But I couldn't do that with anyone else here. They all had to believe that I was tough, or else I would have nothing. And I had to protect the last thing I had left that was mine.

Inside the cabin, I picked up a few of my things and threw them in my bag. The day after she'd been eliminated, while everyone was eating breakfast, I walked to the boathouse to grab my bag and clothes. As I packed everything in over the violin that was almost completely repaired, I tried my best not to think about her. At the time, I'd been completely depressed, feeling as if my heart had been ripped out from my chest, Indiana-Jones-and-the-Temple-of-Doom style. When I found the box of graham crackers that I'd saved for her to hopefully eat later, I just about lost it. I'd been focusing all my thoughts on my clothes, when out of nowhere, a reminder pops up to distract me, and I just let loose. I laid complete waste to that box of crackers, crushing each one to a fine dust, tearing the box into little tiny pieces and ripping the plastic bags into little tiny shreds that would hopefully suffocate whatever fish was stupid enough to eat it.

I didn't feel any better after I'd finished. I just felt betrayed.

* * *

After I had successfully straightened up my portion of the cabin, I sat on my bunk and watched silently as Trent and Owen moved in. Trent ended up on the bunk below me, and Owen in Tyler's old bunk. Geoff sat on the floor by his and DJ's bunk, and Owen was unpacking his stuff when suddenly, Geoff said, "Hey, Trent, nice tunes!"

I looked up to find Trent unpacking a small record player and some records. He grinned. "Hey, thanks. They were my granddad's. He gave them to me before he passed away, and I just couldn't leave them at home. So I brought 'em here and thought we might be able to make a party with them, but I haven't had the opportunity yet."

Geoff's eyes lit up when he heard the word 'party,' and he said, "Well, why not do it now, to commemorate the all-guys team?"

Now Trent's eyes lit up, too. "That's a great idea! I'll go grab some soda and glasses from the kitchen. Hey, Duncan, you wanna set this thing up?"

I nodded, and jumped off my bunk. I already knew about Trent's record player; we had a discussion about music only two days ago when I brought my iPod with me to breakfast. When I asked him about it, we went to his cabin after we ate and he turned it on. I'd looked through his records already, and was surprised to find that a lot of his music wasn't actually that bad. Some old techno records, some Beatles, some newer English rock. All stuff that I could live with.

So, after plugging it into the outlet in the wall, I plugged in some headphones so that I could hear the song properly, and threw on the first record I got my hands on. I lowered the needle and the music started.

Trent came back shortly, carrying a two-liter of soda and five cups, and after he poured them, he said, "Hey, rewind it! This is my favorite song!"

So I carefully pulled the record against the flow and rewound the song to its beginning.

And so, we had a party. And for a while, I was too distracted by the good music and entertainment (consisting of five guys and zero chicks to try to impress) to remember that I'd been miserable, and I actually managed to enjoy myself.

Suddenly I heard a loud belch and looked at Owen, who was grinning widely, and then, from the other direction, I almost popped an eardrum before looking at Geoff, whose mouth was wide open, letting out the loudest burp that anybody (and probably everybody in the world) had ever heard. Then he cleared his throat and grinned.

Wide-eyed, we all looked at him in awe.

"Nice one." Trent finally said. "That guy deserves to be captain."

We all walked forward and slapped Geoff on the shoulder. "Speech! Speech!" Trent started chanting, as DJ cheered. I pushed a tree stump towards the center of the room, and Geoff jumped up on it.

"I owe it all to my big bro back home, for showing me how to pull back and let'er rip!" Then he belched again, grinned, and said, "Those chicks are going **down**!"

We all cheered in agreement, and I was forced to remember what had been skirting the edge of my thoughts all morning: Oh yea. I was miserable and alone.

* * *

It sort of put a damper on the rest of the party, but for the rest of the hour and a half Chris had allotted us for moving in and getting settled, I managed to put on a happy face and deal with it. When surrounded by a bunch of happy-go-lucky guys, putting on a smile and laughing and enjoying oneself isn't as hard as I thought it would be. Sure, I wasn't exactly enthused about being reminded every so often that these guys and I had nothing in common and couldn't be friends. But as long as I kept it pushed out of my head, I would be okay.

That is, until Chris called us all back into the Main Lodge for the challenge. I wasn't so sure I wanted to be there. Whatever they had in store for us could be nothing short of torture, and I found, as long as I kept thoughts of her pushed back, I was dreading the challenge.

So, as we were walking towards the Lodge, I slowly let all the negative thoughts filter back in, and I stopped dreading it so much.

Once we'd all filed in and lined up in two rows, Chris, carrying a clipboard, said, "It's time for today's challenge!"

"Um... where's breakfast at?" asked LeShawna. I could almost hear her stomach growling, and to be honest, I was a little peckish myself.

Chris and Chef chuckled to each other again, and Heather said, "Stop doing that!"

"Let's just tell them today's challenge is... the Brunch of Disgustingness! You'll be getting a nine-course meal. Each member of each team must finish each dish. You will not know if the next dish is grosser than the last, not as gross, or just as gross. Just that it will likely be... gross." He explained cheerfully.

Great.

"Tell them what they get if they win, Chris!" Chef said happily from behind the counter. From his tone, I was starting to worry that maybe Chris had actually been lying about the prize being good, but that fear was shortly put to bed when Chris said, "The winning team spends two days at a local five-star resort, where they'll be pampered, eat gourmet nosh and will be given antibiotics against anything they might have caught while participating in this challenge!" Then he got serious. "The losing team will go hungry tonight, and spend the next two days here. On Total Drama Island. With Chef."

Chef looked diabolically pleased with this, holding up his hand and waving, wearing a sinister smile. He looked more like a murderer than a chef. And who knows? Maybe murder was what he was just about to commit with the food they were going to serve us in this challenge.

"We are **going** to win this challenge." Heather said fiercely.

I scowled, vowing to do everything in my power to make sure she didn't win. Because between her and Bridgette, I wasn't sure who I wanted to suffer most.

* * *

Once we were all seated at our new team tables, one dish was put in front of each of us, covered with a lid. Chris looked at each plate wearing a disgusted expression.

From behind me, I heard LeShawna clear her throat loudly. Geoff and I turned around to look at her. She was wafting the air in front of her nose, and said, "Take a whiff, boys. Because all I smell is victory for me and my girls!"

In retaliation, Owen said, "I'll eat anything. Even my gitch if I have to." Then he paused, looked at Chris, and asked, "Will I have to?"

Ignoring him, Chris said, "Let's begin the challenge! First..." He said, gesturing towards the plates. We all lifted the lids as he finished, "Some hors d'oeuvres."

Sitting on the plates were some oblong meatballs, looking strangely darker than normal meatballs, and tiny veins were running through them. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that had nothing to do with dread.

"Alright! Meatballs! Bring it on!" Owen shouted happily, picking up his plate and letting them all roll back into his mouth. I was slightly more hesitant. I was waiting to hear what was so disgusting about them before I went in. They looked like meatballs, and smelled like meatballs, but there had to be a reason they were oval-shaped and veiny.

"Well, **technically**, you're right Owen. But these are kind of special." Chris said, gesturing to Chef.

"It's beef testicle. Boar mignon." Chef explained, holding one up for the camera to get a close-up.

Owen's face went completely blank, and he said, "...Testicles?" Then he vomited all over DJ, who looked disgusted. I wasn't sure if he was disgusted at the dish, or at the vomit. Either one would be plausible.

As for me, I looked at the plate in wide-eyed disbelief. There was no way I was eating that. There was no way I was even going to **touch** that! To a guy, testicles of any sort were just not something you could consider food, because there's so much that would cross your mind if you put them anywhere near your mouth. Like how unmanly it was. Or how it would feel to know that **your** testicles were being cut off to be eaten. Leaving you with only one clear path—don't let the opportunity arise in which you may be forced to have any kind of testicle even remotely close to your face.

I looked at Geoff as he slowly picked one up and tried to put it near his face. I cringed, and he lowered it and sighed. "Ugh. I don't know if I can do this to my bovine brother."

Then, across the table, I heard a disgusting squishing sound, and saw Trent cringe and gag as he started to bite into one. I almost gagged myself. I couldn't imagine how any course after this could be more disgusting.

"What's the matter?" I finally heard Heather shout from the table behind us. I turned around just in time to see her throw one into her mouth, chew it up and swallow it. I almost gagged. "You big boys can't eat a little meatball?"

There were so many things I wanted to say to her (one of which was a particularly perverted comment about how she could eat "meatballs") most of which I **would** have said if I wasn't too busy trying not to throw up.

"Come on! Geoff said, finally taking responsibility as our newly-appointed team captain. "We can't let the girls win! Our manhood is at stake!"

I didn't feel it was necessary to point out that it was either our manhood or the bull's in this case, and that I'd gladly let the girls win in order to prevent having anything to do with the disembodied manhood of an animal. I couldn't even look at the dish anymore. My stomach was churning already, feeling nauseous enough to puke up nothing more than a glass of soda.

Suddenly, Geoff stood up and walked over to Bridgette, who was looking at the dish in a horrified disgust. He whispered something in her ear, and she looked at him in surprise, before sighing and eating the entire plate. I glared. What was he doing?! He just caused them to win the round!

Finally, Trent, Owen and DJ all gave in too, and Chris said, "Well, looks like the guys lost this round. The first challenge goes to the female campers!" He said, while the girls cheered ecstatically.

Bridgette walked over, and said, "Thanks for the talk, Geoff," before walking back to her table.

Uh-uh. No way. I was **not** having this. "Uh, what, you're **helping** them, dork?! You just cost us this round!" I shouted, glaring at him. My heart pounded heavily, and my stomach knotted up in anger. I may have been overreacting, and I may have been slightly influenced because of my dislike for Bridgette, but I was ready to stand up and punch him in the face.

He just glared back, and shouted, "Yo, it's **my** business who I talk to. Give me a break, man!"

Fortunately, the other three were on my side. "We can't let them win!" Trent shouted.

"You blew it!" I said, just about ready to stand up. And if that happened, it was seriously going to be a no-holds-barred fist fight. I was just itching to let it happen, too; I was long overdue for a real fight, and I was certain that Geoff would be more than happy to oblige. And if he wasn't, then oh well. More hits for me.

"Come on!" He shouted, glaring at me. '_Come on!_' I repeated in thought, feeling a weird, angry excitement. Adrenaline was coursing through me, ready to throw a punch. Then he did exactly what I'd hoped he would do: he blamed someone else. "DJ chickened out!"

"Are you kidding me?!" I shouted, teeth clenched, and I had my legs tensed to stand up when a whistle blew from behind me.

"Are we here to argue, or are we here to eat a series of revolting meals?!" Chris asked angrily. I wasn't sure what he was on about; a fist-fight between two angry teenagers seemed like exactly the kind of thing Chris would like to see. But then again, he was more sadistic and too smart for that; torturing us all slowly with disgusting food seemed more up his alley.

I turned back around, and saw Geoff scratching the back of his head and sighing.

"Alright." I said bitterly.

"Fine."

Then I extended my hand, forcing the anger back, and said, "Sorry man," just as Geoff said, "Sorry about that, dude."

I tried my best to actually be sorry for reacting so strongly, but I couldn't help being angry with him for a while after that. I don't think it was that he helped them so much as it was my jealousy of him and Bridgette coupled with my dislike for Bridgette. How was it fair that HE still had his girlfriend here when I didn't? Where was the justice in that?!

* * *

A grasshopper-jellyfish-anchovy pizza, some earthworms covered in snail sauce and hairballs, some "French bunion" soup, an ABC gumball, a skunk-spray martini, an iced flip-flop and a garbage stew later, I wasn't sure of how much more I could take. The score was tied, and there was only one more course to go. I groaned and put my head on the table and took quick, shallow breaths. I probably should have taken deep breaths, but that was too uncomfortable, and I wasn't sure how much more my stomach could take. I didn't want to vomit (who actually **wants** to vomit?) but I worried that if I let this stuff marinate in my stomach I would actually die.

"Wow. It's still tied up. We're down to the last course in the challenge; it's delicious dolphin wieners! Hot dogs made of dolphin." Chris announced proudly, as we lifted the . I grinned. This was more like it. This was something I could stomach.

Yea, dolphins were cute and all, but what has a dolphin ever done for me? Besides, I was absolutely sure these hot dogs weren't made from dolphin. Killing dolphins is illegal.

...Right?

As it were, I heard a loud gasp from behind me, and turned around to see Bridgette looking completely horrified. "But... dolphins are our **friends**!"

"What are you waiting for? It's already dead." Heather said, shaking a bottle of ketchup. I waited before eating mine; DJ WAS an animal enthusiast. There might be a chance that he wasn't going to eat, and if he wasn't going to eat, I wasn't going to waste my time or stomach capacity. Heather continued. "If you don't eat it, we don't win!

Bridgette just moaned. "I can't! I'm a surfer! I **swim** with dolphins!"

"Eat it!" Heather shouted, getting up in her face.

"No! I'm not doing it! You can't pressure me!" She said, standing up to Heather.

"I'm with you, sister." DJ said, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm not eating no dolphin." I was glad I didn't eat it now. Geoff looked at me curiously, already having taken a few bites of his. Trent was halfway done with his, and Owen had just scarfed the whole thing down in one bite.

"Why bother wasting space if we aren't going to win it anyways?" I whispered. Geoff mouthed an "Ooh!" and put his down.

After a few minutes, Chris realized that neither DJ nor Bridgette would cave, and said, "Okay, enough! We'll solve this by having an eat-off."

* * *

A few minutes later, fifteen shot glasses were placed on a tray in front of Owen and LeShawna. I was feeling pretty confident. Owen wasn't lying when he'd said he would eat anything; I was sure we were going to win, especially after Chef came out of the kitchen with a blender, and poured a suspicious-looking brown mixture into each of the shot glasses, while Chris said, "Whoever can drink the most shot glasses of fresh, delicious blended cockroach will be the winner. This unlikely satisfying blend of eight different cockroaches is vitamin enriched for your balanced lifestyle." Then he grinned. "On your mark. Get set. Go!"

And so they began.

They each grabbed one shot glass at a time. Owen downed his without a problem, but shuddered afterwards, while LeShawna had problems with gagging the whole time, but once one was down, she went immediately for the next one. They each got six before LeShawna froze, and Owen drank the last three. Then he put his arms up in the air, and fell backwards.

"Owen wins!" Chris shouted, and the four of us that weren't involved in this challenge stood up and cheered loudly.

"LeShawna, you are completely useless!" Heather shouted at her. Her remark made me want to smack her across the face, the first time I'd ever been tempted to do something violent to a girl. Sure, LeShawna lost it, but how far would Heather have gotten before giving in? To her credit, LeShawna did pretty well.

"Ooh!" LeShawna groaned. "Something's coming back up!" Then she puked all over the table several times, and on the third time, we all looked to see one of the cockroaches—_still moving_.

Completely unintentionally, LeShawna had started a chain-reaction puke-a-thon. First DJ, then Trent, then Chef, then Chris, then me, then Geoff, then Bridgette, then Gwen, then Lindsay, then Heather, then finally, Owen. Then we all went several more times. At the end of it, we were all covered in vomit, and just how much of it was our own or someone else's, none of us would ever be sure.

We all headed to the showers right after that. The ex-Gophers went to the deluxe shower they had won last challenge, and the ex-Bass all headed towards the communal washroom. Bridgette didn't care that she was showering next to a bunch of guys, and to be honest, none of us thought much of it, either. We were all to busy trying not to cover ourselves in fresh vomit while washing off the old vomit. It had been the most disgusting thing I'd ever witnessed, and I've witnessed many a disgusting thing.

* * *

It wasn't until later (until after we'd all been checked out by Nurse Chef in the infirmary tent) that us five guys were allowed to get on the boat that would take us to our reward challenge, and that wasn't even until after we'd all been given a completely clean bill of health. See, the boat had the antibiotics on it, and if it sailed away while one of the girls needed some, that girl would have been toast.

We were lucky then that they'd thought of it, because Gwen ended up needing treatment for excess E. coli she'd ingested from the garbage stew, and Lindsay had some kind of poisoning from the iced flip-flop. But finally, Trent, Owen, Geoff, DJ and I boarded the boat and headed off the island for a while.

To say I was relieved to be getting off the island would have been an understatement. Even though I'd be going back. Even though once I got back, everything would be worse than before. Just spending a few days away from the location of my biggest disappointment ever would be a relief to my mental health.

And I was excited to spend a few days eating real food and being able to sleep without worrying that I would die before waking up, of course.

But no matter how many distractions there would be, no matter how much fun I might have, the thought of going back had me more than worried; would two days be enough time to heal? Or would a vacation end up causing more damage than it fixed?


	27. No Pain, No Game

**A/N:** Helloa!  
First I want to apologize. If I'm not wrong, you got two update notices for this chapter. That's my bad. I was a little distracted and went ahead and hit "submit chapter" before editing it here. xD  
Sorry guys!

Second, I'm sorry about the length of this chapter, but I must include that about a quarter of the length of this chapter is the **Q and A **I promised you guys.  
I'm thrilled with the amount of questions I received; waaaaay more than I was expecting, both in PMs and reviews. So thanks, guys! I'm really flattered that you have sincere interest in the outcome of the story. :)

Third (and I say this every time), I'm sorry about the gap in between chapters. I don't mean to make excuses, but I have been really, really busy lately. You know how it is. Back to school time for everybody! And this being my senior year, I've been really busy with looking at colleges and taking tours and making phone calls and senior pictures and--get this--my mom's already having me look for prom dresses. How lame. Prom is lame.

I'm not sure if there are any swears in this chapter. There **might** be, but I can't think of any.

Anyways, I liked this chapter. I liked writing it, I liked reading it, I liked editing it, and I imagine that I'm going to like posting it in it's finished state. Once again, sorry about the double-notice. That was my fault entirely.

Readers: You are my sunshine. You're beautiful to look at.  
Reviewers: You are my clouds. You bring my favorite kind of weather.

Enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

It was amazing what two days away from Total Drama Island can do for one's mental health.

Apart from it being the most relaxing weekend I'd ever had in my life, it also allowed us guys the opportunity to get to know each other a little better. Maybe it was the relief at not being on the island, or maybe because the only girls there were at the spa, far away from where we were hanging out most of the time, or else only coming to serve us when we were sitting at the pool or in the dining room, or maybe it was just because we were having such a great time, but we all managed to sort of open up to each other. I'd managed to trust them enough to tell them what life was really like in Juvie.

They had asked me a couple times what I'd done to get myself in there, and I did tell them a few of the more minor things I'd done (some of my more serious tagging incidents, petty thefts and the like), but I never told them the story I'd told Bridgette. That was a story I didn't want to think about, personally. When I'd told Bridgette, I'd omitted the worst part. I had a feeling that if I'd told her, she wouldn't let me be alone with Courtney for more than two seconds. It was for the best.

During the two and a half days we were away from the island, I also managed to let go of Courtney.

...Well, alright, I didn't. Not entirely. I guess something in me somewhere very deep down still held on to that last shred of hope that we might see each other again someday. But I was able to be happy. I was able to enjoy myself.

I had also gone slightly insane. But that was kind of a given.

* * *

On our way back to the island, we were all given a fine opportunity to connect one final time, to really get to know one another inside and out once more before we returned to the hell-hole that was Total Drama Island. But it wasn't to be; DJ and Owen were too busy talking to the ladies who'd been serving us, and Geoff and Trent were just itching to get back to the island to see Bridgette and Gwen again. I, on the other hand, continued to go about my business as I had the whole weekend; talking when spoken to, accepting service when I needed it.

I had done a lot of changing since I'd left two days ago. I'd become rather introverted, keeping things I normally wouldn't have minded saying back in. I'd become more aggressive than ever before. I'd become a bit of a daredevil, too, leaning over the edge of the rails just to show off my upper body strength.

The development of these traits led me to believe that I was having a bit of a relapse, and I was a little concerned. But unfortunately, there was nothing I could do. I only really thought about what I was doing after the fact, meaning that whatever happened at the moment happened. I couldn't stop myself.

The inner voice was just as worried. But because he was a part of my mind, my conscience, the angel on my right shoulder telling me to do good when all my mind could think of doing was bad, he started fading away. I didn't miss him or his company. I should have, but I didn't.

By the time we reached the island, I felt no guilt in gloating a bit while all the girls sat in front of us.

"What a weekend!" I shouted, sliding down the off ramp after Geoff.

"Hoo-wee!" Owen shouted, right behind me. Once all of us guys had clustered down at the bottom of the ramp, he went on to say, "Oh sweet mother of mirth. You can't **buy** that kind of fun!"

I turned to Geoff, simply to rub it into the girls' faces even further. "I think Owen and DJ took a real shine to those lovely ladies who served us hand and foot."

"Hellooo!" DJ said. I turned to look at him, grinning widely. We all were. "The spa treatments? My alligator elbows! Totally gone!"

"Ooh!" Owen said, stroking one of DJ's elbows with his finger. "Like velvet." Then, he ran back onto the boat and brought out a serving tray, then walked towards the girls. "Anyone care for a chocolate-coated cherry blossom?" He asked, holding the tray up high. LeShawna curled up the magazine she'd been reading and threw it at him, knocking the tray into the water. Owen gasped, and shouted, better than any horror movie character, "No!!"

Geoff went up to him and said, "It's okay, dude. The ladies are just a little jealous."

"Yea. Who can blame them?" I added, adding fuel to the fire. "They can barely stand each other, and meanwhile us guys are tighter than family." Trent and DJ came back over, and I grinned, shouting, "Guys rule!" The others cheered, and we all high-fived.

All the while giving the dirtiest looks I could to Bridgette and Heather respectively. They noticed.

However, almost immediately after we'd all high-fived, Chris' voice came on over the loudspeaker. I frowned. I'd grown so used to not hearing his voice. It had been great, really. Then I frowned deeper, and realized that I was back at camp. Back at the struggle. Back in the game. I had to face nine other campers, and the most grueling forms of torture this sadistic host could throw at me. I had to take a deep breath, and remember that the time on the boat was just that—a time. And it was over now.

It was time to get serious.

"Listen up, campers. As of right now, all teams are officially dissolved. From now on, it is every camper for themselves!" He said, putting emphasis on the last few words.

Time to get serious.

I held up my hand, frowning. This was the time. Time to get rid of any extra weight. I would get through this competition completely on my own. I cleared my throat. "Well, uh... it's about time we flew solo." I said to the guys, not looking any of them in the eyes. I was glad to find we were all on the same page, as we all turned away from each other and spaced out over the dock.

"Oh, I am **feelin**' that. Bring it on, Chris." LeShawna agreed, glaring at Heather and Lindsay. More than likely, just Heather. I almost grinned.

"Then..." He started, coming in from the loudspeaker again. "Get ready for this!" He said. Once he'd finished speaking, one of the boat horns sounded from the lake, and we all turned...

And collectively gasped. Because, to everyone's shock and horror, there stood, on the approaching boat, Eva. Insane, anger-management issue Eva. Eva that would kill you as soon as notice your very presence.

I swallowed hard. This was **not** going to be fun.

"Aw, man, what is **she** doing here?" Trent asked, as horrified as the rest of us.

* * *

Despite the fact that she was given another chance at winning a hundred grand, she didn't look very happy as she stepped onto the dock. But that may have just been her face; she wasn't exactly the happy type.

"Back by popular audience demand, it's... Eva!" Chris announced, just as she stepped off the boat.

"That's right. I'm back. And just so we're clear, not only am I gonna kick butt, but I'm giving special attention to my **backstabbing** Bass team who voted me off!" She growled, clenching her fists.

"Wait a sec!" Gwen said. We all looked over to her, except Eva, who continued to pound forward towards the rest of us. She walked over near the loudspeaker. "You said no one is allowed back!"

"I did?" Chris asked over the loudspeaker.

"And once you leave on the Dock of Shame, on the Boat of Losers, you can never, never ever,** ever** come back." She quoted, glaring at the speakers.

"Oh, yea, that.... Yea, I lied." He said. I could hear the grin in his tone.

"You can't do that! It's not fair!" She shouted, crossing her arms and glaring.

"Whoa, girl, you're reasoning with a loudspeaker. That just does not look good." LeShawna tried to console her. Gwen continued to complain at her, and LeShawna continued to try to console, while my attention was captured by Eva, who stood behind Bridgette, breathing heavily, obviously furious.

Bridgette turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin. "So, Eva, what'cha been doing since you left the island?" She asked, trying to make small talk. I almost grinned. What I wouldn't give to see Eva take a whack at her.

"Taking anger management classes. I seem to remember **you** thinking I needed them." Eva growled in response. I hated to admit it, but Bridgette was right. Eva needed more than anger management classes. She needed an anger management personal coach twenty-four, seven. But I digress.

"She was an audience favorite?" Heather whispered loudly. Eva looked up from Bridgette and gave Heather a look that surprisingly did not turn her to stone. I wish it had, but it didn't.

"Not really... but we liked her." Chris said, grinning again. "Also returning to camp, iiiiiiiiiit's... Izzy!"

Much like the collective gasp when we realized it had been Eva, we all collectively shouted, "Oh, no!" and turned in the direction of a very** loud** shout.

"Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!" Izzy shouted, swinging onto the dock by a long, thin vine. "Hey guys! It's good to be back at camp, even though I never actually left the island. I've been living in the woods all this time!"

"But I thought the RCMP hunted you down?" Gwen asked. I was completely lost. I guess that's what happened at Izzy's elimination.

"They tried, but being a wilderness survivor, I was swift-footed and avoided capture!" She said, then pulled a dead fish out of what I assumed was her pocket. Then she took a bite out of its head, and I gagged a little. "Once I was safe among my animal brethren, it was just me against the harsh elements." She said proudly. I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not.

"You call this harsh? It's been warm and sunny all week!" LeShawna pointed out. She'd always been extremely skeptical of Izzy's stories, though.

"Not where I was. But luckily, I was able to take refuge in the beaver dam! Yea, I befriended the family of beavers who lived there, and together, we foraged for nuts and berries." She said, getting down on her hands and knees, and reaching her leg up to her ear to scratch like a dog. "Heh. Boy, I could use a bag of nachos right now." She proceeded to howl, then to look up at all of us and say, "So! What's new with you guys?"

"Alrighty campers!" Chris finally cut in, sounding a little miffed. Probably because he hadn't been paid any attention in almost two minutes. "Report to the amphitheater where you'll learn all about this week's challenge. McLean, out!" He said, then the speakers clicked off.

"Woohoo!" Owen shouted from behind me. "Another challenge! Par-tay! Give me ten!" He said, holding both hands out to me for a double high-five.

"Uh, dude? You heard the loudspeaker." I said, watching his face fall. I felt no guilt. Yes, I was definitely relapsing. "It's every camper for themselves." I didn't stay to hear his response, and started walking. I heard the other guys follow suit, and we all headed over to the amphitheater to learn about today's torture.

* * *

"Welcome to your next challenge! The time-honored game of torture: Say Uncle!" Chris beamed at us. There was a quiet, collective groan. It was about time he came outright and told us we were going to be tortured. At least there weren't any surprises this time. Or beef testicles. Today's challenge was already shaping up to be better than last week's. "You are all about to be put through tests of endurance so insane that some of them put our interns in the emergency room!" My eyes went wide. Really? Was he even allowed to do that? Give us challenges that could seriously injure us? I don't remember that being in the contract.

Then again, I barely read the contract. If I ever saw Courtney again, I would definitely have to ask her about the contents of the fine print. I smiled a little just thinking about how she would react; she would probably look surprised for a minute before launching into a lecture, accurately recalling every square inch of her contract. If I wasn't so terrified for the task ahead, I might have laughed. Or maybe I would have freaked out. There's no telling what I might have done if there hadn't been any cameras there. As it were, I was surprised I managed to keep in the outburst I felt coming on.

Just because I thought her name.

"If you back down from the challenge or do not last the required ten seconds, you will be eliminated." Chris said, wearing a serious face. Then he perked right up again, and said, "The winner will not only be safe from elimination, but will win this luxurious trailer, yours to take home at the end of the summer." Chris said, gesturing to the trailer that I hadn't even noticed, far away near the woods. It looked pretty snazzy; a little small, but otherwise pretty boss. I began to evaluate the competition.

Of everybody left, the only people I was seriously worried about in this challenge were Heather, Eva, and Izzy. Eva was tougher than all the nails in the world put together, and Izzy was ten times crazier than every psych ward patient in existence. And Heather was just too determined. Therefore, a threat. An enemy. The only female I've ever wanted to hit, in my entire life. But that's not the point.

"What kinds of torture?" LeShawna asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Why don't you ask my lovely assistant?" He asked, gesturing towards Chef, who was wearing a hockey mask and wielding a butcher knife. I was definitely starting to panic. They couldn't really do anything **that** bad... right? That was definitely illegal, right?

"Alright!" Chris called out cheerfully. "Let's do this! Duncan, you're first up! Let's spin the Wheel of Misfortune to select your torture!" Then he spun the wheel.

I almost fell backwards out of my seat. Walking slowly down towards the stage from my seat on the top rafter, I tried to focus. What had happened to 'nothing worse than the pain of heartache?' It had helped before, when I needed to fling myself towards a tree at about a hundred kph. I groaned. Getting over Courtney enough to have feelings again definitely had its repercussions.

Once I reached the bottom step, the wheel stopped spinning on a picture of a turtle. I looked at the wheel through wide eyes. What did that mean? What was I going to have to do? The last time my heart beat this fast was when I was forced to confront the standee, but Courtney had been with me that time; now, I was entirely alone, and had no idea what I was facing.

"Turtle puck shots!" Chris shouted loudly.

'_Turtle puck shots?_' I thought, confused. What was he going to do, fling turtles at me with a hockey stick?

* * *

Turns out, that's exactly what he intended to do.

"Our interns spent weeks collecting the grumpiest, angriest, crustiest, hungriest old snapping turtles on the island. While you stand in the goalie net completely unprotected, Chef will fire off turtles slap shots." He grinned. Then he pushed me towards the net, saying, "Ready?"

'_I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place._' I tried to coax my mind to think of other things, happier things. But all I could see was a giant turtle, about to take a snap at my jeans, and I frowned. I wasn't sure if it was because I was so nervous about the turtles or if I was just incapable of thinking of happy thoughts anymore. Then I was shoved into the goalie net, feeling a little dazed, and all my thoughts were shoved right out of my head. "If I were you, dude, I'd protect my coconuts." Chris whispered, then ran away. Then he came back, and whispered again, "This could get ugly." Then he ran away.

I took his advice. The last thing I needed was a frigging snapping turtle attached to me at the crotch. That was not only embarrassing, but just creepy.

From his safe point against the backdrop of the stage, he said, "If you can stay in for ten seconds, you'll go on to the second round." He said. Then, all of a sudden, a loud buzzer sounded from somewhere, and I looked at Chef.

In one instant, I met his eyes, and I knew exactly what was going to happen: he was going to shoot turtles at me faster than I could dodge them. I was going to get bit, I could already tell. I glared at him, only slightly. Nobody would have been able to tell except Chef, in that one instant. Then, there was a turtle, right in my face, and I ducked.

Stupidly, I turned around to look at it, then felt a very sharp sting on my chest, and yelled in pain. Trying to pry it off, I had forgotten about the twelve other turtles that Chef had at his disposal, and felt the same sharp, stinging pain in my leg, my ear, my finger, my armpit, and then, because it was going to happen the second Chris said something, and I had no choice but to accept it, the crotch of my jeans. I groaned, and sank to the floor. I didn't think. I couldn't think. All that I saw was the floor rapidly approaching. I shut my eyes.

"And Duncan moves on to the next round!" He shouted after a buzzer went off. "Isn't this fun?" He asked me, gloating. I glared.

"Yea. It's a riot." I said through clenched teeth, feeling a turtle chomping at my head. The cameras all shut off (God, sometimes, I forgot they were even there), and the paramedics and some other people I assumed were animal trainers rushed forward. The animal trainers removed all the turtles, and the paramedics applied some kind of antiseptic to my bites.

Once I was sure I wouldn't be getting rabies, I returned to my seat, not looking at anybody. I kept my arms crossed, and I looked straight ahead, daring everybody to say something. As always, nobody did.

* * *

"Next up: Lindsay!" He said, then spun the wheel. "Your torture is... hot marshmallow waxing!" Chris said, reading aloud from his cards.

And so it went, for the rest of the day. Chris would call out names, spin the wheel, and decide a torture. They were all different, too; there were a surprising amount of tortures, despite there only being eight on the wheel; what ended up happening was, once all eight on the wheel had been used, Chris would add eight new ones, and we'd all go again, in the same order, omitting whoever had been eliminated. Besides being the target for turtle puck shots, I also had to have a hedgehog-quill acupuncture treatment. Never having been a fan of needles, I couldn't finish the torture, and just had to give in after two quills. It wasn't that it was painful, it was the anticipation that killed me.

Finally, it was LeShawna's turn, and the game was tied between her and Eva. I wasn't really sure who I wanted to win. LeShawna was nice and everything, but if anybody deserved a trailer for being tough, it was Eva. She may have been a total monster, but I liked her style. She was strong. She was mean. She wouldn't deal with anybody's crap. I respected her, and it takes a lot to earn my respect.

I was worried that LeShawna would fall in, though. I never had a problem with LeShawna, and that's saying something, because at one point or another, I had problems with almost everybody on the island, whether initially or as time went on.

So I guess I was pretty indifferent about it when LeShawna ended up winning the trailer. It was great for her, but... well, I just didn't care either way. Admittedly, if Eva had won the trailer, she probably would have gloated, but still. I was just glad Heather didn't win, because she was definitely getting my vote for the boot.

It would be accurate to say that I was hoping people would take this opportunity to vote off Heather. She was overdue for a good smack in the face, whether that smack be literal or metaphorical, and getting the boot off the island would be just metaphorical enough to satisfy my need for her suffering. However, I figured that they would all vote off Eva, just because she had a problem with Bridgette. I rolled my eyes. I half-wished she would have fought with Bridgette. I smiled at the thought of a Bridgette coat, with her face as a hood.

Then I shook my head in disgust. How could I even think something like that? That was disgusting. That was cruel. That was totally against the rules of my new leaf. And that was all the proof I needed that I was relapsing.

* * *

Later, I found myself in the confessional again, just chatting away. I intended to send a message home to my parole officer. I wanted him to know that I was relapsing, and that I was sorry he was wrong. I told him about Courtney getting kicked off, and how pissed off that made me. I told him about the decline of my sanity, and then today, about what I imagined, the Bridgette coat. I told him that I was sorry, but that he'd probably be seeing more of me in the future. Then I sighed, said goodbye, and shut off the tape. I was glad that nobody could watch the tape in the stall, because that would have been embarrassing. Then I decided that, while I was in there, I would cast my vote. I turned the camera back on, and grabbed a slip of paper. I wrote Heather's name on it, and said, "I vote for Heather, because I **know** she's behind Courtney getting kicked off. You'll pay for that, toots." I said, pointing and glaring.

And then something occurred to me. What if I said something to Courtney through the stall!? Sure, it was a one-way thing, and she wouldn't be able to see me, but still. She would know that I still cared for her. So abandoning for one instant any thoughts about what it might do to my reputation, I said, "If you're watching this on cable, I miss you, babe." I said, grinning, and giving her my favorite hand gesture; the horns. Then I turned off the camera, and walked out.

As I headed back to the cabin, I ran into Eva along the way. I noticed that she was holding a pair of shoes in her hands... and then I realized they were the shoes she made from the Sasquatchanakwa she'd fought today.

"Hey, Eva. Great job on the Sasquatchamacallit. That was brutal." I said, in an offhand tone of voice.

"Thanks." She said, sounding surprised. "It was just like fighting with the guys back home. Smelled just as bad, too." She added, grinning. I chuckled.

"Yea, no problem." I said. Then, a second epiphany occurred to me (I was on a roll today); _Eva had been kicked off_!_. _She knew what happened to people once they got the boot, which means that she might know where Courtney was!

"Hey, Eva, I've got something I want to ask you." I said suddenly. I tried my best to hide the excitement in my voice, but I didn't do a very good job. Nor was I very capable of looking anything but hopeful.

She looked hesitant. "I'm not allowed to tell you what happens after you get voted off." Then she looked apologetic. "Sorry, Duncan. I know you want to know where she is, but I'm not allowed to tell you, or else I get sent home automatically, Bonfire Ceremony or not. I wasn't even allowed to give you a message from her... if I had seen her." She amended hastily.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that she was probably going to get sent home anyways. Actually, at that point, I didn't really feel like I had a heart at all. It had been stupid to get my hopes up like that. I should have figured she wasn't allowed to talk about it.

But she still thought it was her fault. "I'm really sorry!" She said, sounding more sincere than I'd ever heard.

"Oh, no, it's not your fault. It's alright. I just let myself get my hopes up, it was stupid of me." I scratched the side of my head. Then I shrugged. "Oh well. I'll get over it."

She looked thoughtful for a minute, then grinned and said, "I'm not allowed to give you a message, but I don't think I'd be breaking any rules if I told you that she **probably** misses you too. And she **might** still love you. And it's **possible** that she's looking forward to seeing you at the end of the show." Eva said. Then she added, "But that's all maybes, of course."

I grinned. "Of course. And, you wouldn't say that it's **possible** that I **might** be able to send her a message with whoever gets sent home tonight, is there?"

Eva chuckled. "Well, if you did, it **could** reach her." Then she shook her head. "But this is all hypothetical, obviously."

I nodded rapidly. "Of course, of course."

Eva nodded, too, then laughed. Her laugh was oddly feminine, and it sounded weird with her rather deep voice. "Alright, we should probably cut this out before I cross the line."

I agreed. "Yea. It's alright though. I feel slightly, just slightly comforted by the fact that all of this could possibly happen."

Then we laughed, and walked towards the Arts and Crafts tent.

* * *

I wouldn't have been able to put into words the joy and relief that I felt when Eva "let slip" that information. It was the reason I had no qualms about hanging out with her for the rest of the day. Once you got past the very, **very** tough exterior, she was a really nice person. Surprisingly, she had a good sense of humor, and was even able to laugh at herself, so long as she knew the comment wasn't meant as an insult.

"So, what's your beef with Bridgette?" I asked curiously while in the Arts and Crafts tent. We kept our hands busy making little pinecone people. Inadvertently, I made about twelve of Courtney before realizing what I was doing and chucking them all in the garbage.

She scowled. "I hate her. Besides the other Bass, it was her fault I got voted off the first time." Then her scowl deepened. "Plus, I overheard her and the Wonder twins talking about me when they thought I wasn't listening, and they said some really nasty things."

I nodded. "Ugh, I hate her too. Stupid little self-righteous, nosy, bossy, interfering..." I trailed off, crushing a couple pinecones without noticing, squeezing them to death in my hand. Eva looked surprised.

"So, what's your problem with her?" She asked curiously.

I shook my head. "Well, when Courtney and I sort of got together, she seemed to think that Courtney had to, like... I dunno, answer to her or something. Like she was her mother." Then, to sound a little less... I'm not exactly sure what, I said, "But this has been going on since we got here. She disliked me right off the bat, and I treat everybody exactly how they treat me." I glared at the pinecone, and sniffed. "If she wants to condescend to me, and treat me like a child, I have no problems behaving as such."

Eva chuckled. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

She just shook her head and said, "You acting five. I just pictured you on the ground, smacking your fists against the floor and yelling really loud."

I laughed too. The mental image was really funny.

"So, who did you vote off today?" She asked me, again curiously. She was unable to cover a hint of worry, though.

"Heather." I said immediately, and I could see one tiny worry wrinkle leave her forehead. "She has something to do with Courtney getting eliminated, I just know it." I glared at the pinecone again, this time glaring so fiercely I didn't even notice Eva opening her mouth, pausing, and then closing it and shaking her head.

* * *

Later that same day, we headed over to the Bonfire ceremony. I guess Chris decided we were going to do them on the same day, again, or maybe it was just more convenient for today in particular. I didn't care. All I knew was that someone was going home, and that, more likely than not, it wasn't going to be me. I was a bit nervous for Eva, though. I knew she was worrying, and I would never say it to her, but she had good reason to be. She was a lot less popular than Bridgette, and she had more enemies besides Bridgette and company.

If I were to be completely honest, I was about ninety-five percent sure that Eva was going home today. The other five percent was praying that everybody took this opportunity to vote off Heather, considering that, for the first time, she had neither immunity nor an alliance that would get her through, and I was certain that, if she needed to, she could easily manipulate just about anyone into joining her if she managed to survive this round.

I also made sure to bring the note for Courtney with me, and as long as it wasn't Heather going home, I was going to ask whoever **was** going home if she could give it to her. Since I knew it was going to be Eva, I felt confident that the message would be delivered. I kept it in my hand the whole time, not letting go of it, not letting myself forget it.

While we were sitting in our stools, the camera crew set up, and Chris walked over to his podium, without a tray of marshmallows. The cameras started rolling, and Chris said, "Okay! So first off, we ran out of marshmallows—"

"**No**!" Owen shouted, as if someone he knew just died or something.

'_Talk about overreaction._' The inner voice said. But just as soon as he sprung up, he faded away. I frowned. It was probably for the best that he was gone, but... well, I was nervous. He was my conscience, and if it were my **conscience** slipping away, something had to be wrong.

"I have reviewed the confessionals, and I have to say, there is a lots of **hate** on up in this group, **which** is awesome! While I normally protect your privacy, in the spirit of airing your dirty laundry, I'm going to go **live** with your confessionals!" He said, and from seemingly out of nowhere, a TV screen popped in next to his face, and began to play on its own. I glared down the line at Heather.

The first person in the confessional was Heather, who said, "Since LeShawna's immune, there's no other choice but rage-aholic Eva." She held up a picture of Eva, on which she had drawn a beard and two horns. I glared at the screen, hating Heather even more. I noticed Eva stiffen next to me, and saw her clench her fists out of the corner of my eye.

The next was my clip. My face got a little hot at the end, and a few people snickered, but it passed, and I eventually cooled down.

After me was Gwen, who was crossing her arms and glaring. "Eva's a fuh-reak. So, see ya!"

Then, Bridgette, who was almost begging, "Please, **please**, Eva!" Then she looked at the camera and said, "I'm so glad you never air these."

Then DJ. "Eva's nuts. Sorry, girl." He said, shrugging.

Then Geoff. "It's got to be Eva. Unless I can figure out who snagged my other lucky hat." He said, frowning in confusion.

Then Lindsay. She was rubbing her upper lip, then she looked at the camera and grinned. "I just can't get over how smooth this is! Anyway, I vote off Ava, 'cause she's scarier than Heather, LaQuisha and Gwen combined."

Then Eva. Her eyes were right on the camera, and she said, "Unless they want to leave in body bags, they'd better **not** say my name." Then she relaxed, and said, "I vote for Heather."

I glared down the line at Bridgette. With any luck, Chris had forgotten to call some security guys down here, and hopefully, Eva was about to hit her. She definitely looked like she was ready to pounce, and Bridgette **was** only one person away...

"Lots of dirt revealed there, huh?" Chris gloated. "But! In the end, it was six votes against Eva. So, adios!"

"**What**?!" She screamed, standing up. This was it. I suppose I should have been a little more sensitive about this, but I was greatly looking forward to seeing her beat up on somebody, and the two most likely candidates were Heather and Bridgette. But she disappointed me by walking up to Chris and getting in his face. "This isn't the end of me!" Then she turned toward us and said, "You'd better watch your backs! I'm not done! I'll get my revenge!"

Then two very buff security guards ran forward with a straightjacket and strapped Eva up. To her credit, she fought very well. She got quite a few punches on them; one of them walked away with a fat lip, the other a bloody nose.

After she straightened herself up on the boat, she continued to yell, staring straight at Bridgette, who looked panicked. "You'd better not sleep tonight! I'm not done with you!" Then she looked over to me, and I saw her mouth twitch slightly before continuing, "Oh! And Izzy lied! She wasn't in the woods! She was—"

"**Wow**!" Izzy interjected. "She has issues, huh?" Then she chuckled, and pushed LeShawna towards land, saying, "Party in LeShawna's new crib!"

Everyone else on the dock stood still for about a second, then we all shouted, "Yea!" And followed them, LeShawna now walking on her own towards her new trailer.

On the way, I realized that I still had the note in my hand, but I wasn't very angry. I knew she missed me. I knew she still loved me. I knew she couldn't wait to see me. And it wasn't like I had my phone anyways. Plus, I knew I would see her again, no matter what. So I stopped worrying about it, and decided, at long last, that I could be happy, and that I could get my head in the game.

* * *

The trailer was a lot bigger inside than it looked from the outside. From the outside, it looked like a small, one-room kind of set-up, but it actually had a full kitchen/living room type area, then some stairs up to a small bedroom and a bath and toilet. Plus, it was fully stocked with food. Well, not food exactly, but snacks and sodas. LeShawna, in all her glory and excitement at winning a trailer completely free, was very generous with the snacks she won with it, and told us all to help ourselves. Considering there were ten of us (Heather wasn't one to stay and join the after-Ceremony celebrations), that was being pretty selfless.

Trent ran back to our cabin and grabbed his record player, and Gwen went with him to help him bring over the records. They were both slightly red when they came back, and they were looking at anything but each other, a fact that Geoff immediately noticed.

"Not been doing anything we shouldn't have, have we?" He asked suggestively.

"Me? Never." Trent said, grinning. Then he set up the record player and threw the first record he grabbed in. It was some really old music, probably from when records were invented, and we all gave him weird looks. He grinned apologetically and changed it to something from this decade.

It was a fun party. I ended up chatting with Izzy and Owen the whole time. Bridgette, DJ, Geoff and Trent hung out for a while, and Gwen, LeShawna and Lindsay hung out together, though Gwen and Trent were constantly catching the other's eyes before looking away quickly, smiling.

Eventually, Owen, Izzy and I started playing Canasta, and stayed on that for a while. Somebody (I think it was Geoff) suggested we play strip poker, but that was decided against, because someone else suggested that Chris probably bugged the camper, too. So we all ended up playing regular poker, playing with potato chips instead of money.

After a while, we quit that, because we all ran out of chips really fast.

It was a great night, and I knew that the only reason I enjoyed it so much was because of how hopeful I was now that I knew I would see Courtney again, definitely. I did the mental math in my head; if I was right, I'd been here for about thirty-six days. That meant that I had at least twenty more days until I saw her again, and that was assuming I didn't get voted off It was like learning that there's life after death. Considering my state of mind, that's exactly what it was; there is an end to the suffering, so recommence living.

And apparently, my change in attitude showed. Owen even commented on it. "You're acting different, Duncan."

"Different how?" I asked, taking a swig of cola.

"I don't really know. You're... happier. Is something wrong?"

I grinned a toothy grin, and said, "Nothing's wrong, Owen. If anything, everything's right."

He gave me a weird look, and dropped the subject.

* * *

When I went into bed that night, I knew that I was going to sleep very well. Such was my relief that it saturated my entire body, and once my energy had burned out (strangely, while I was on my way to the washroom to brush my teeth before I went to bed), I was half asleep before I even hit my pillow. I was so sleepy, I forgot to change into pajamas, and just fell asleep in my jeans.

It was okay though. Jeans or no jeans, it was without a doubt the best sleep I'd ever gotten on the island.

* * *

**Q and A**:  
Warning: Possibly some light spoilers for TDA. I tried to edit as much of them out as I could during the editing process, but I'm not making any promises that absolutely nothing will be spoiled. If you don't want to read the Q and A, or have a question that wasn't answered below, always feel free to PM or ask in a review.

**1) Are you going to do Total Duncan Action?**

Hopefully for the final time, yes. I am one-hundred percent definitely going to do TDA. But like I said a while ago, I'm going to wait until TDA is completely finished for two reasons. One, I want the **whole** thing to be finished, so I can see the mindset I have to keep Duncan in. If something happens, and he and Courtney don't survive the season, I don't want to write up to the final chapter and have to suddenly find an excuse for Duncan's change of heart. But let's all hope that doesn't happen. Because that would totally suck.

**2) And how long will that gap be?**

Hopefully not too long. Don't forget; I want to see the end of TDA too. I'll probably start shortly after that. It really depends on a lot of things, mostly what time of year it is and how swamped I am with schoolwork and my job. I'm not going to strain myself to get chapters out, because not only is it unhealthy, but I realized that even low amounts of stress cause me to have anxiety attacks, and I can't do that to myself, not in my final year of high school.

**3) Violin…?**

It may or may not be a gift to Courtney at the end. Most likely yes, but if it doesn't fit in right, or I can't write Courtney's believable reaction to it, oh well.  
I will find a fitting end for it, though. I hate when authors leave strings hanging, and I wouldn't do to you what I wouldn't want done to me. So no matter what, something will happen with the violin.

**4) Will Duncan be stuck on Courtney for very long? **

Yes.  
Forever.  
Hopefully.  
I'm still waiting on that, just like you guys. =P  
But seriously. I won't have him obsessing for much longer. I like you guys, I like seeing change, too. Besides, I'm a bit sick of writing angst.

**5) The Reunion Episode…?**

Huh?  
Total Drama Drama Drama Drama Island (or its Duncan equivalent... still working on that title. :P) will be its own separate story, because it'll end up being **real** long.  
I hope that answers your question. However, if it doesn't answer your question, message me, and I'll try to answer better. But I don't like spoilers, and I hate spoiling.

**6) Have you been watching TDA?**

Only, like, everyday.  
Well, okay, not every day. I don't have internet or cable, so I can't. I do, however, watch TDI almost everyday, since I definitely didn't download it illegally through a torrent website when I had internet. And I have seen all the recent episodes while sitting awake at night while at my friend's house.  
That being said, yes, I've seen the twelfth and thirteenth episodes of TDA.  
They're the reason I decided to do Total Duncan Action.

**7) Would you make Duncan even slightly attracted to Heather?**

You know what? I like this question a lot, because Duncan's relationship with Heather has always been weird to me. It's always been hard to tell if they actually hate each other, like you said. I mean, where we're at right now in the story, yes, he hates Heather, but later, after he finds out that it wasn't Heather that gave Courtney the boot, the nature of their relationship becomes unclear. So again, I'm sorry I can't answer your question, but I don't know yet. We'll all have to wait and see for the end of this season. Ask me again in a couple months, and I'll get back to you.

**8) Any chance you could use the Teletoon dialogue for TDA?**

I'm with you, I hate the US version. I'm very much against censorship. Not only does it keep news from the people, but it inadvertently stifles creative thought. Plus, I like hearing swears on the TV. I'm just immature like that. :)  
But that's beside the point.  
Yes, since I used the Teletoon dialogue for Total Duncan Island, I will use it for Total Duncan Action as well.

**9) What? But Duncan and Geoff were, like, friends!**

People change. All the time. And in an environment like Total Drama Island, relationships are fragile. The tensions that were running higher as the competition got fiercer, Geoff's ongoing relationship with Bridgette, and Duncan's feelings towards Bridgette, not to mention Duncan's personal state of mind at this point, could only lead to his severing a few ties. But it's alright. I promise not to let them end on a sour note. Hopefully it'll make up for Geoff in the future (if you know what I mean).

**10) Alright, you stupid, lazy jerk off, when's the next chapter coming out?**

Working on it!  
Sorry!!  
((Actually, nobody asked this question, or at least, not like this. I edited it a bit. xD))  
But I go back to school in a few weeks, and I've been shopping, finishing up my summer AP assignments, and (to surprise you all) I got a job. Plus, trying to get in as much time with my friends as possible. So now, my time's a bit more strained than it was before.  
(Edit: Plus all the other things I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter; I started writing these questions a while ago)  
But it will be out **soon**. I promise.  
And if I don't get it out soon, you're all free to pelt me with virtual rocks on the form of harsh words and heavy criticism.  
Deal?

**11) What's going on with Playa Des Courtney?**

Same as what's going on with Total Duncan Island, only in Courtney's point of view instead. It follows the same timeline, the same story. Just a different character and a different island. :P

**12) What are you going to do with Playa Des Courtney when Duncan gets the boot?**

I was asked this question a lot, in other chapters, too, and in reviews for PDC.  
And I used to think that, once Duncan was kicked off, I was going to stop with PDC and just keep going with TDI. But now I'm not too sure. I mean, no matter what, I'm going to finish the series from Duncan's point of view, at least. I promise you guys that much. However, I'm not sure if I want to finish the series from Courtney's point of view or not. Well, alright, I shouldn't say that. I want to. It's just the matter of updates. You guys know how I am. One update every couple of months, hopefully. And it's bad enough that I do that with one story. Imagine two! Wait, you already know what that's like if you're reading both. So imagine that, but for a much longer period of time.  
So I don't know yet. I might stop PDC and just keep going with TDI. I might put PDC on hiatus until TDI is done, and keep going with it. Maybe I'll scrap the idea entirely. Who knows?  
...No, I wouldn't do that.

**13) What's on Duncan's iPod?**

That is my favorite question, and thank you for asking it.  
Unfortunately, if I were to sit here and list every band I could think to put on Duncan's iPod, we'd be sitting here for a very **long** time. If you really want to know what I would put on Duncan's iPod, or if you're just looking for music suggestions in general, feel free to ask, and I'll send it to you. But I don't want to list it here, because I don't think my word count would survive. XD

**14) Melancolie, who are you? What are you all about?**

I'm flattered you asked. My name is Cassie, I live in New York (the state, not the city), and I'm sixteen, going on seventeen in a little over a week. I have a mother, a father, a step-mom, a sister, and three brothers, and except for the step-mom, I love them all to death, (I'm just a little family oriented. :P) despite the fact that I haven't seen my father, step-mom or three brothers in years.  
I have a lot of friends, whom I also love dearly. However, I'm a home-body, so it's a wonder they still consider me a friend. XD  
My hobbies are writing (obviously), listening to music, reading, watching movies, running and learning new languages. I speak English (my first language), French, Spanish, a little Japanese, a little Russian and a little German. I want to be a translator when I grow up.  
I have a very vast music library. I'm still working on it, but I've got almost one-thousand five hundred songs in my arsenal. And that's only singles. I recently began buying CDs. I've got... oh wow, I don't even want to know. Hundreds. And I span genres like a madman.  
Apart from CDs, I also like to buy DVD box sets for TV shows I like. I bought Metalocalypse, the Boondocks, and the IT Crowd so far. Buying the Mighty Boosh next. Or hopefully, I'm getting it for my birthday. :)  
I'm a generally nice person. A little sarcastic, a little paranoid, and a little cynical. But I'm alright.  
Just don't ever insult my friends or family, because I will find you and I will hurt you.

**15) I'm having some problems with my computer... help?**

Well, have you tried turning it off and on again?  
...Sorry. Nobody actually asked me that question. I just **love** the IT Crowd. I very highly recommend it if you haven't seen it.  
And not the US version, either, although I don't doubt that it's funny. But much like the Office, the UK version is just... funnier.

**6) Did you ask a brother about the meatball thing?**

I know it probably wasn't a serious question, but no, I didn't. Two of my brothers are just a little too young for that, and I don't see any of them anyways. I just have a butt load of male friends, and, after spending so much time around them, the relationship they have with their, um... stuff sort of becomes clear. :P

**17) Why do you warn us about swears? It's a T rated story.**

Because some people have parents that are very over-protective. I would know. My mom used to sit with me while I was on the computer to make sure I wasn't talking to weirdoes or reading porn or something. The fact is, parents are sometimes a little nutty. They like to know what their kids are up to. And I don't want to be the reason some poor kid gets booted off the computer for reading something that's got swears in it, and his or her parents come up and see it.  
And if you **are** one of those parents, I just need to say one thing to you:  
BACK OFF A BIT, ALRIGHT? If you raised your kids the right way (only you can be the judge of that), then you should have some trust in their ability to judge right from wrong. So unless your kid is ten years old, cut it out. You're only going to make your child hate you, and then they'll run away, or kill themselves or something, and everyone'll secretly judge you behind your back. And your kid will be gone or dead.  
So, there's that.

**18) Have you seen Ponyo?**

No, is it good?  
Wait, that's a stupid question. It's a Miyazaki movie, of course it's good.

**1****9) What do you do in your free time?**

Oh, you know, the usual. Read, write, play solitaire, drink heavily, smoke crack.  
I'm just kidding, actually. I don't like solitaire.

**20) Favorite music?**

Alright, now it's getting a little personal.  
Currently listening to RiD, Queens of the Stone Age and Kasabian.

**21) Which story do you like more so far, TDI or PDC?**

That's like asking me which brother is my favorite. I can't decide. I don't see them often enough.  
...That's actually a much better analogy than I intended it to be.

**22) What's it like in a mental ward?**

Really? You're honestly going ask me that question?  
Maybe you ought to check it out, if you're rude enough or just socially awkward enough to ask something like that.  
No offense.  
I wouldn't have minded answering that question with an honest answer if it weren't for the rest of the message. I don't know if you're being serious, or trying to be funny, but there are a few things you shouldn't joke about, and that's one of them.

**23) Are you single?**

Depends. How old are you?

**24) Would you like an opportunity to win a one-thousand dollar gift card to Best Buy?**

No thanks.


	28. Search and Do Not Destroy

**A/N:** Sometimes, life happens. And sometimes, life happens in unpredictable ways.  
Like the rain. The rain is so unpredictable. You never know when it's going to fall in just the perfect way to get in through the window and drip into the motherboard of your laptop, on which is stored every document you've ever written since you were about twelve.

You know what else is unpredictable? Other people. There are all kinds of people in this world. Like, landlords for instance. You never know when they're going to raise your rent to a rate that they know is higher than your mother is able to pay, forcing you and your family to move out as quickly as possible. You also never know when he's going to take your desktop tower as collateral for a water bill that was supposedly unpaid. He may also take your guitar. Your piano keyboard. Your game-used hockey stick signed by your favorite goalie of all time.

You know what **else** is unpredictable? Foreign exchange. Actually, this one isn't half as unpredictable as the others, because that's the kind of thing that needs to be checked for a while. You always know exactly what day your exchange student will arrive in your country. Unfortunately, that day also happens to be on the same day as your big move to the new house, which results in a broken bed, a lot of stuff in the way, and a thoroughly upset host family and a very homesick exchange student.

So yes. Life happens every day. Sometimes life can interfere with certain story publications that haven't been updated in several months. Sometimes the author of said stories has a million other things to do with her life (such as senior portraits, club activities, college applications and foreign exchange meetings for a potential summer trip to Germany) and just can't find the time to write. Sometimes she has a sister and a cousin who never let her have the computer, or if they do, they're all hovering so she feels cramped and can't write.

So, hypothetically speaking, these are all perfectly plausible reasons for not updating a story. Certainly these reasons do not warrant ineloquent and inaccurate hate mail.

I don't appreciate it. We both know who you are. Do it again and I'm reporting you.

Warning: Swears.

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

The morning of the next challenge was much better than most of the previous mornings. I was finally happy again, and it felt really, really good. I was well rested. Well nourished. Just doing well in general. It was such a wonderful change of pace that I decided to go for a run before breakfast. It was still dark, but I wasn't worried. I changed into a comfortable pair of shorts and a wife-beater tank-top (I never really liked the name but I had to admit they were really comfortable), threw on my red Chucks, turned my iPod on loud and headed out.

And that was my morning. It was a long run around the water and back and I felt so relaxed while doing it. It was obvious as to what had been causing this good mood for the past few days; Eva had admitted that there was a good chance I might see Courtney again once I got voted off. Or hell, **if** I got voted off. Maybe I could make it. Maybe I could win. And if I did, maybe there was a chance we could be together afterwards. That would be nice.

On my way back (after the sun had risen and it was bright out), I passed Gwen and Trent hanging out on the beach. That was cool. It was about time their relationship went somewhere, and I was happy for them. Insanely jealous of them, yea. But mostly happy for them. I wasn't aware of when I had grown emotions, but it was nice to be able to feel something other than depression, even if that something was insane jealousy.

* * *

I had returned to the cabin after a shower when I heard a strange sound, like something heavy flying through the air. This theory was proven when I heard a loud explosion near LeShawna's new trailer. Running outside, I saw LeShawna run toward the cabins, grumbling angrily about something that sounded like "stupid cynical little..."

Chris' voice was heard, not through the PA system, but through a megaphone of some kind. "Argh, mateys! Meet me at the amphitheater in five minutes, and I'll tell you about today's challenge."

I blinked a few times, wondering why Chris sounded like a really lousy pirate before sighing and heading over. I was glad I'd had time to shower first. That could have gotten very miserable. While I was walking, I met up with DJ. "Mornin', man." I said by way of greeting.

"Morning Duncan. What's up? You seem... happier than normal." He said, sounding a little suspicious. "You been up to something'?"

I grinned. "Naw, man. I went for a long run this morning. It was pretty great."

He nodded. "You've been in a good mood since the last challenge. What happened? I thought you were still really bummed about..." He trailed off, not wanting to upset me. I appreciated his unnecessary concern.

"I was. But, I dunno. I guess I just sort of figured out that I'm not going to be on this island forever, and it's not like I'll never see her again." I shrugged. "I'm fine now. I just needed a couple days."

DJ smiled. "Well, that's good, bro. It would'a sucked if you were depressed and mopey for the rest of the game. It's good to have the old Duncan back." We walked in companionable silence for a minute before he said, "So what do you think today's challenge is gonna be?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I guess something to do with pirates." We continued to walk in silence until we got to the amphitheater where Chris was standing on stage next to a large pile of something covered in a blanket. On the other side of the pile was Chef. They both wore pirate hats, but only Chris was dressed in full pirate garb. I raised an eyebrow. This was gonna be good.

"Well, my little scalawags, have we got an adventure in store for ye." He started, continuing with his stupid pirate accent. After he finished the sentence, the fake parrot on his shoulder fell over and, frowning, he put it back upright. Then he smiled.

"What's under the sheet?" Geoff called out, in between DJ and Bridgette.

"All in good time, laddie." Chris answered. "Who here has a hankerin' for a good, old-fashioned treasure hunt?" He didn't wait for an answer before saying, "Now, this treasure hunt's got a twist, mateys. What you're looking for isn't hidden and it isn't treasure."

Didn't that kind of defeat the purpose? "If there's no treasure, then what's with the eye patch and the plastic parrot?" I asked, my tone sounding a little skeptical. I wasn't bored yet, and this challenge definitely had potential, but I really didn't see the point of hunting for treasure that wasn't there.

"Argh, shiver me timbers, good question me boy." He said, throwing the fake parrot offstage. "You're looking for keys to a treasure chest!" He said, as Chef pulled the sheet off a small pile of three treasure chests with a flourish. "Inside each of these chests is a treasure that will pamper you land-lubbers. And, one of these chests will even give you invincibility! Hahar! Now come 'round and pull a clue out of this bucket, or you'll have to walk the plank." He said cheerily. I didn't really believe he had a plank, but I still stood up with the rest of my ex-team and headed up to the stage. I grabbed a clue and looked at it. On a small plank of wood, there was a picture of a key above a bonfire. What, I had to pull the key out of a fire? That sounded easy enough. I could already tell this challenge would take me about five seconds max. I rolled my eyes.

"These clues will tell ye where your key be stowed." Chris explained. Then he went around and looked at everybody's clues, explaining what they had to do. Owen had to get his from a bear, Heather had to go into Chef's fridge, Trent from some sharks, Izzy from a snake, LeShawna from some crocodiles, Gwen from some skunks, Lindsay from a bee's nest, DJ from a tree, Geoff from the septic tank and Bridgette from a... bunny? How weak. They must have been running out of ideas. Mine, I was told, had to be rescued from a ring of fire. I grinned.

What better way to spend my day than surrounded by fire all in the guise of winning a challenge?

"All you scalawags, go find your keys, and bring them back by six p.m., eastern standard time, to open up the chests and get'cher loot. Fare thee well, young scalawags. Now get to it!" He finally yelled, and we broke huddle.

The cameras all shut off and reassembled in various different locations. I walked around for a little while, wondering where they would put a giant ring of fire. When I finally found it, I kind of wanted to smack one of the producers in the face. They put a giant, blazing ring of fire right next to the forest. The dry, dead forest. That was brilliance if ever there was any. Rolling my eyes at my sarcasm, I walked up to the set producer and asked, "I'm not allowed to just put out the fire, am I?"

"Nope. You gotta jump through it."

I grinned. That's exactly what I'd been hoping to hear.

* * *

I walked around for a few minutes, feeling the ground around the ring to see where would be the best location to jump from. I tested it out a few times, jumping on the spot, seeing how high I could go. Because this was something I didn't want to gamble with. I never gambled with something I couldn't control, and I was done losing people to fire. So I was careful, even when I told the crew I was ready, to get a good running start. The wind wasn't blowing. I was calm. Poised. I could do this.

So I ran. I jumped. And everything slowed down.

There it was, right in front of my face. But at the same time, there were my legs, way too close to the fire. Moving slowly, I lifted my legs as much as I could while not forcing my upper half into the fire. Then, at the same time, I reached my hand out, grabbed hold of the key and yanked.

And landed on the ground on my back barely a second later. Holding the key in my hand, I looked at the camera, let the key fall so that it hung from the string, and grinned proudly. Take that, viewing world! I was better than all of you!

* * *

It being only just noon, I still had six hours to kill until we had to turn our keys in. So I chilled out around the cabin. I wasn't bored. I had a lot to think about, like how best to continue surviving on the island. I spent the entire day strategizing, planning on who should be voted out next and who would make a good alliance. Heather was definitely out. I would never let her join me in anything, not after everything she'd put me through. No, Heather was out. So were Bridgette and Geoff. I liked Geoff, but he and Bridgette were too chummy, and I couldn't handle that.

Gwen and Trent were cool. And LeShawna. They could be good alliance members; they were strong competitors. And Izzy was crazy enough to go for just about anything. There only being ten people left (nine after tonight), I wouldn't need more than five in the alliance, and any more would just be stupid. So I decided. By tonight, I would establish my alliance.

Sitting out on the steps, twirling my key idly, I wondered how I would best go about asking them to join me when LeShawna came up to me and said, "I gotta talk to you."

"So talk." I said, keeping my eyes closed and continuing to twirl the key. She came up and whispered in my ear, "I need you to join an alliance with me. Heather was playing around with Trent, and I need you with me to vote her off."

I glared subconsciously. Heather was ruining **more** relationships? Just what was it with her? Was it some need to ruin everybody else's happiness? Was she actually a sadist, or was she just over-competitive? Whatever it was, it was no excuse. She hurt me personally by getting Courtney kicked off, and now she was breaking up Trent and Gwen, too?

But then it struck me. Trent wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't have just believed what Heather was saying. Which meant that whatever happened must have been voluntary on his part. Suddenly, my insides boiled. LeShawna must have seen all this on my face and asked, "You in?"

"Definitely. It's about time that skanky relationship-ruiner got her butt kicked off this island." I said angrily. Her eyebrows raised at my choice of words, but she grinned nonetheless and left. Probably going to recruit more.

Not only did that completely ruin my good day but it also ruined my chances of starting an alliance. Trent could not be trusted, and Gwen wouldn't be up to it right now. LeShawna would be too busy trying to take care of Gwen (that's just how she worked), and Izzy... well, an alliance with just two people at this point would be foolish. So I guess that put that plan on hold for a while.

Sighing heavily, I headed over by the bonfire where Chris was setting up for tonight. I couldn't sit around anymore. I had to do something, even if it meant the same thing as doing nothing.

* * *

I spent the last hour of the evening talking to Chris about the challenge. He was a lot different just talking to one-on-one compared to talking to him in front of the cameras. He seemed almost human.

By the time six o'clock came around, and everybody came forward with their keys, Geoff stinking worse than a whole haven-full of skunks. We all looked at him sympathetically when Izzy came up.

"Hey guys. Woo! What stinks?" She asked happily. When I looked over, I saw--

"Izzy, you have a snake on your head." I pointed out amusedly.

"I know, but don't worry, he's friendly." Then, as if to contradict her, it bit her, and she said, still just as happy, "See? Kisses!" I looked at her in alarm, all the while wondering how I could have possibly thought of her as a good alliance member before she collapsed.

"Argh! It be time to claim yer treasure!" Chris said, still talking in that accent despite the fact that I'd only just talked to him normally a minute ago. "Those fortunate enough to bear a precious key, come forth with it!"

We all headed towards the chests, keys out, and worked single file down the row. It was a very organized way of going about it, and I was surprised that it just happened instead of it getting all crazy. When I finally found a chest that opened, I was excited until I saw, on the bottom, a bag of potato chips and three cans of soda. Raising an eyebrow, I pulled out the chips and one can, saying, "Is this the best you can do?"

He pointed at me and nodded, smiling. Shrugging, I decided that it wasn't so bad. I opened the bag and cracked open a soda and started eating. They weren't even stale. After seeing some of the stranger prizes the others walked away with (a leg-lamp a la A Christmas Story and a toaster), I figured mine wasn't so bad.

"Oh, and look! An invincibility pass! Lucky me!" I heard. Looking over, I saw Heather with a large gift basket and a small picture in a frame in her hands. I nearly growled in frustration. Fine. If it couldn't be Heather going home, it would be Trent.

Still, I was really angry that it wasn't Heather.

Once everybody had claimed their treasure, realized their key was defective or regretted not sucking it up and getting their keys anyways, we all lined up in front of Chris, who said, sans ridiculous pirate accent, "I hope everyone got the treasure they were looking for and more! But now, it's time to do your duty and send one of you off the island for good. So cast your votes, and I'll see ye buckaneers back at the campfire after sundown. Arghhh, har har!" He finished, gladly adopting the crappy accent again.

* * *

I polished off the entire bag of chips and two cans of the soda. I saved the last can for dinner, figuring it would be better than milk again. Of all the drinks in the world, I definitely missed soda the most, though normally, I didn't really drink it. We weren't allowed to have it in Juvie and I missed it while I was in there too, but when I got home, I sort of forgot I wanted it.

Shortly after finishing my snack, I headed to the confessional. I took the paper and pencil, scribbled 'Trent' quickly, turned on the camera and said one sentence: "You messed up dude." Then I shut the camera back off and headed back to the cabin where I sat and talked with Geoff and DJ for the rest of the evening. Fortunately Trent never came in, because we were talking about him the whole time.

"So, you think he did it on purpose?" Geoff asked, sitting with his legs folded on the floor. DJ was leaning against the bed opposite Geoff, and I was on my bunk, looking over the side.

"Oh yea. Trent's not an idiot. There's no way he would fall for anything Heather said." I countered. As much as I wanted to place all the blame on Heather, the situation really didn't call for it.

"I dunno. She's a pretty sneaky chick. She could probably manipulate her way to being the Prime Minister." DJ said, defending her. I frowned. There wasn't a single person on this island I thought deserved less kindness, not even Bridgette. At least her intentions were good. But all Heather had ever done for anybody was make them miserable. I wondered how her parents put up with her for so long. If I were them, I would have kicked her out a long time ago. She didn't deserve kindness. She deserved the very last pit of hell, all to herself. Then I realized I was growling and that Geoff and DJ were staring.

Clearing my throat in a fruitless attempt to cover that embarrassing slip-up, I said, "Yea, I guess." I could sacrifice being right for a hate-on-Heather session.

* * *

Later, we all found ourselves around the bonfire, just sitting and waiting to see who was going to get kicked off. I was reasonably lacking any good feelings to find myself sitting almost right behind Bridgette, with Heather right next to her. I was surprised I could wipe the scowl off my face.

To interrupt my internal conflict (should I move? Should I scowl at them? Should I hit Heather?), Chris began his regular vote-day speech. "And now, the moment we've all been waiting for. The moment of truth. Marshmallow time!" he declared happily. "You know the routine, whoever doesn't get a marshmallow, it's curtains for you!" He pointed at us. Then he paused for about ten seconds before listing, "Izzy, Geoff, Gwen, LeShawna, Lindsay, Bridgette, DJ, Duncan, Owen. Marshmallows for the lot of you!" Then he looked at Trent **almost** sympathetically and said, "Sorry dude. You're out."

As Trent gasped, LeShawna got up in his face and said, "That's right. Take your two-timin' ways **back** to where you came from!"

"What?!" Trent asked in surprise. If it weren't for the fact that Gwen and I were kind of friends, I would have felt slightly bad for him. He looked like he really had no idea what it was he did. As it were, his feigning innocence just pissed me off. "But I thought I was getting along so well with everybody!"

"I guess you were wrong." Heather said maliciously. I glared at her around Bridgette's head.

"You don't even **care**, do you?" Gwen asked, standing up in anger. I was shocked. If anybody had a reason to **not** stick up for Trent, it was Gwen, and yet, there she was.

"Hey, just playing the game." Heather said in defense.

"Why should you care?" Trent asked, walking up to Gwen, looking sort of hurt. Wait, **Trent** was looking at **Gwen** like he was hurt? Now I was kind of confused, and a light feeling of dread layered the bottom of my stomach. Because what if it had all been a mistake? What if Heather really had just manipulated the crap out of Trent? Then that would mean... "You think I'm a cliché."

"Where'd you get that from?" Gwen asked.

'Don't say Heather. Don't say Heather.' I pleaded internally.

"Her." Trent said, pointing to Heather, who just wiggled her fingers in a wave.

Shit.

"You know, even after all this, I **still** didn't vote you off." Gwen said. I raised my eyebrows, because that was surprising. And also a little nauseous. Because now, all of this hurt between couples wasn't Heather's fault at all. Well, it **was** all Heather's fault, but it wasn't the reason Trent and Gwen were now split up.

"Then how'd I get the boot?!" Trent asked, sounding confused.

LeShawna sidled up and apologetically admitted, "My bad. I jumped the gun on that one. Told everyone to turf either you or Heather."

"But tonight," Heather interrupted. "I'm invincible. So that leaves poor old Trent here." She said, falsely sounding sympathetic. I was so prepared to jump up at attack her. It would be the last time she hurt anybody ever again. I would be sure of it.

But I restrained myself. It unfortunately wasn't my battle to join. So I sat and watched angrily while LeShawna said, "Looks like we got played. Sorry, hun." She apologized to Gwen and Trent.

"Oh, no!" Gwen cried, burying her face in her hands.

"It's okay." Trent said, grabbing her wrists and pulling them away from her face. "Whatever happened, happened. At least we both know that we're still okay." He said, smiling softly. Then his face fell and he asked, "We're still okay... right?"

I imagine Gwen smiled (I was behind her, I couldn't see her face), and said, "Yes."

Trent put his hand on her cheek and said, "I want you to be tough, and fight to the end, for both of us. I'll be watching and cheering for you back home." He said. Then he dropped his hand and he and Gwen leaned in to kiss.

I'm not sure if they ever got to, though, because Chris jumped in and said, "Trent! You have an appointment at the Dock of Shame and a ticket for the Boat of Losers! Let's go!" Trent looked at Gwen sadly before heading up to camp to grab all of his stuff. We all had to stay down by the fire. Everybody who wasn't Heather tried to help cheer Gwen up, but nothing really helped. That is, until I said, "If you want, we could damage Heather's face?"

She choked a laugh while Heather glared at me fiercely. "That'd be nice." Just as she was about to retaliate, Trent came down, and as he passed, he kissed Gwen on the cheek, gave her a smile, then was led by Chris to the Dock of Shame and onto the boat.

He waved goodbye to everybody as the boat sailed away, and I won't lie, I was kind of sad to see him go. He was a cool guy, and a good friend, and Gwen would really miss him. We all clustered as close as we could to the edge of the dock to wave goodbye to him until he was out of sight.

At which point Heather said, "**Love** to stick around, but it's been a long day, and I'm gonna hit the showers. Great work, everybody." I have to say that despite how black her soul was and how terrible a person she was, she had some nerve and guts to say things like that to an entire crowd that hated her, and I had to respect her bravery. Fortunately, that was the only thing about her that was respectable.

* * *

I sat on the cabin steps afterward, by myself, and just thought about the couples that emerged on this island. Lindsay and Tyler. Harold and LeShawna. Geoff and Bridgette. Trent and Gwen. Me and Courtney. And then I thought of how Heather had this knack for ruining everything we'd all worked so hard for. Trent had tried so hard to get Gwen to like him, and then she ruined it. Tyler had to... sort of work to get Lindsay, and I had to move a freaking mountain to get Courtney. And she ruined it all.

I frowned. Then scowled. Then downright glared at the ground. I was fed up. It was about time I gave her a piece of my mind.

Standing up, I stomped over to the washrooms and waited outside. She was still in there, and I knew that because the light wasn't on in the girls' cabin; they were all down at the beach trying to help Gwen. So I leaned against the wall right next to the door and waited.

I didn't have to wait long. She came out shortly, her eyes closed, her nose in the air. She didn't even notice me.

So I shouted, "What is your **problem**?!"

"You mean besides the fact that I just bathed in sewage?" She asked, still walking. I followed.

"No. I could care less about your hygiene."

"Then what?"

"Your problem with other people's relationships." I growled fiercely. She'd better answer or she was getting a stomach full of my fists. I didn't care that she was a chick. I didn't care that I'd get my ass kicked off the show, and I didn't care that I just swore. I was pissed off and about to do something about it,

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

I laughed humorlessly. It sounded more psychotic than anything. "Well, let's see. Let's count 'em off, shall we?" I said, walking faster to catch up with her, but I made a point of still being behind her. "Tyler and Lindsay--"

"Don't try to peg that one on me, you guys voted Tyler off on your own. It was just an added bonus for me. I still don't see why, it was Courtney who lost the challenge for yo--"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HER." I bellowed fiercely. There was a short silence, and I'm almost certain I'd scared her. Oh well. No matter. "Gwen and Trent."

"That was purely strategy. I had nothing against Trent."

"But you had everything against Gwen." I countered, teeth clenched.

"Yea. 'Cause she's a fuh-reak." She said, still walking, now taking the towel-hive off her head and starting to towel her hair dry.

A shiver of fury shuddered down my spine. I was going to pretend not to have heard that. "And I **know** you were behind getting Courtney kicked off."

"Oh, please, Duncan. Are you really so eager to blame me for something that you're going to peg that on me too? What, trying to get me back for Gwen? You know, I'm surprised you went for Courtney and not Gwen. You two are so much alike."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she's a freak and you're a--"

"I meant the first part." I interrupted impatiently.

"I didn't have anything to do with Courtney getting kicked off." She said.

She lied.

"You're lying." I snarled. She had to have done it. Who else would it have been?!

"No, I'm not. If it had been me, I'd admit to it, but it really wasn't me." She said, now climbing up the steps to her cabin. "I will have to thank whoever **did** do it, though. Made my job a hell of a lot easier."

"Then who was it?" I asked fiercely. Who else could it have possibly been?!

"Well, Duncan, did you ever stop to think that maybe your friends **aren't** your friends? It's not an uncommon predicament. Or else maybe, **just** maybe the guy who you tormented for weeks was lying to you. Ever consider that?" She turned around as she got to the door. "Now if you're done hurling accusations at me, I'm going to change. And in case you're still considering it, I'll just say this: I wasn't on your team. Therefore, I couldn't have voted for Courtney, because it said in our contracts that members of the opposite teams aren't allowed into the confessional until after the votes had been tallied. The producers or camera crew were **always** keeping watch to keep an eye out for foul play. So if you **still** think it was me, TAKE IT UP WITH THEM." She shouted, slamming the door in my face.

I stood there for a few minutes, shocked. Not because she'd yelled at me (to be honest, I'd expected that), but because she was right. She was absolutely right. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't have.

"Uh... Duncan?" Someone called from behind me. I didn't turn around. A few seconds later, Lindsay, Gwen, Bridgette and LeShawna came around and gave me a weird look. I tried to feel my expression from the inside out. I guessed I looked severely shocked.

"Is everything okay?" LeShawna asked slowly, sounding concerned.

"It wasn't her." I whispered. I was in awe. Mostly because she was right. But a small part of me (a part that was growing larger by the second) was thinking that, since it wasn't her, it had to have been someone on my team. Someone lied to me.

Someone betrayed me.

"What?"

"It wasn't her. She didn't do it." I said again, louder.

They exchanged a look. "Didn't do what, exactly?" Bridgette asked.

I stared at the door and blinked a few times. My anger at Bridgette was momentarily kept at bay.

"She had nothing to do with it." I whispered again, turning around and heading to my cabin. While I walked back, the four remaining girls followed me with an odd stare, but I didn't notice. I was too busy trying to wrap my mind around it.

As I changed into pajama shorts, I couldn't help but keep thinking about it, over and over in circles. It wasn't Heather. It was a teammate. They lied. It was a teammate. It wasn't Heather.

And as I climbed into bed, I stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.

If it wasn't Heather, then who was it?


	29. Hide and Be Sneaky

**A/N:** Hey guys. Melancolie here with yet another chapter of TDI. I gotta say that this story is a lot more, uh... popular than I had expected it to be. I won't lie. It was a nice surprise.

I had started this chapter almost right after I'd finished the previous chapter, because I really, REALLY need to finish writing this if I intend to do TDA, because I'm going to college soon, and I want to finish it both TDI and TDA before that. A lofty goal, I know, but I really, REALLY want to do it. And I'm sure you guys don't mind that, either. :)

Anyways, this chapter was kind of boring to write. I didn't have as much fun with it as I had any others because vengeful!Duncan isn't my favorite to write. But no worries. It's only for a short time, and then he'll be normal!Duncan again, if such a thing even exists.

So, I think there might be a few swears in this one, but I don't remember. Probably not. I don't care. xD

Enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

By the time the next challenge came around, I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around the fact that Heather hadn't done it. I knew she wasn't lying, because she was right about both things; if she'd done it, she would have admitted it, but she couldn't have done it anyways because the crew wouldn't have let her. So now, I was stumped. If it wasn't Heather, then who was it?

There were only two people I was really unsure of (Harold and Bridgette), but Heather had had an interesting point. This was a game show where everybody was trying to win a hundred thousand dollars. Who could I really trust? Geoff and DJ could be just as at fault as anybody on my team. The only person I could trust to not have voted off Courtney was Courtney!

When I finally decided to just give up on trying to find out who did it, I also decided that it was about time I took the initiative to protect my place on the island. During today's challenge, I would call all the guys together and form an alliance. There may have only been four of us left, but where we could get along and vote together, the girls couldn't, and that would be their downfall.

* * *

"Today's challenge is a good, old-fashioned game of hide and seek." Chris began, smiling his usual unaffected Chris smile. "You all get ten minutes to hide before Chef Hatchet comes looking for you." He said, pointed to Chef. He was dressed in the same outfit he wore during the boot camp challenge, his arms folded, a menacing expression on his face. "With his military background and advanced degree in man hunting, he is uniquely qualified to make this game excruciatingly hard." Chris finished, as Chef pulled a water gun out from behind his back and started pumping it.

"What's with the water gun?" I asked, hiding a chuckle. Then I saw a laser and looked up at my forehead, unable to see it but trying to picture a red dot there.

"The lifeguard chair is home base." Chris carried on, ignoring my question like always. "When he finds you, Chef will try to spray you. If you escape his blast, you can try to run to home base. But if he catches you on your way, he'll douse you."

"Ooh, so we're gonna get splashed by a bit of water. Now I'm terrified!" I said sarcastically. Where was that line again, and how far before I crossed it?

"Why don't you demonstrate, Chef?" Chris asked, a hint of pleasure in his voice. I almost rolled my eyes. It was a small water gun. How bad could it be? Chef started pumping the water gun, then turned to Chris and sprayed the strongest looking blast of water I'd ever seen. Chris ended up about a football field away.

"Not on me, dude!" He shouted. We could only just barely hear him. He started running back.

"So, how do we win this game?" Heather asked. The usual surge of anger I felt whenever she talked didn't come. Instead, just a big block of confusion.

"You've got three options." Chris answered once he got back. "One: don't get discovered in your hiding place. Two: run to home base before Chef blasts you. Three: once you've been caught, help Chef find other campers. Do any of those, and you win invincibility. All clear?" Chris asked.

"Uh..." Lindsay said, raising her hand.

"You get ten minutes to hide." Chris said, looking at his watch and ignoring Lindsay. Then he pointed at us and shouted, "Go!"

We ran.

* * *

While running, I told the guys to follow me. On our way, we lost Owen (the guy couldn't run very far or fast for very long), and waited for him in a cave. We saw him stumbling towards it through the forest, probably having given up trying to find us and now just looking for a place to hide. Once he'd gotten close enough, I reached forward and grabbed him and pulled him in. He shouted, but I quickly shushed him in case Chef were nearby.

"Whoa, guys. Great hiding spot! Yea!" He commented, looking around the cave.

"Listen up, boys." I started, sounding serious. "We're in trouble, okay. There are six chicks on the island, and only four dudes."

"I know! Nice odds!" Geoff said happily. Rolling my eyes, I smacked the side of his head.

"No, butt-brain, bad odds. If I noticed it, chances are that sooner or later, they're gonna notice it, too, and when they do, they're gonna pick us off one by one. We've got to do something about it."

"It's not like they're exactly getting along." DJ pointed out. "Remember this morning?"

We all paused a minute to remember hearing the fight that happened inside the bathroom while we were all outside waiting. Then we all snapped to it, and Geoff said, "Oh, I don't know, dudes. Bridgette and me? We kinda hooked up. I don't feel right about joining an alliance without her." He sounded hesitant, but I knew Geoff. He could be talked into this, I just know it.

"Let me tell you the truth about women." I said, my tone convincing and certain. "They're all sisters. And when push comes to shove, they're gonna stick together. Haven't you ever seen a chick flick before?" I asked. I didn't necessarily believe what I was saying (two polar opposite magnets sticking together was more plausible than Heather and LeShawna sticking together), but I had to get him on my side or we were done for.

"Well, yea, but..." Owen said slowly. This was it. I almost had them. Time to play the last card I had.

"Look, man, now is the time, while they don't see it coming. While we have the element of surprise." I finished. The only card I had left was violence, and I really hoped it didn't come to that, but I would use it if I had to.

"Jeez, I'm just not sure." Owen said. I turned to Geoff and DJ, and asked, "You guys in?"

DJ nodded, and Geoff sort of shrugged before saying, "I guess."

I nodded. "Alright, then, Owen, come with me."

We walked for a while, and I asked him what about this arrangement could make it easier for him to join. "I'm still not sure." He said. "It seems kind of sexist to me. I guess--"

I pushed him. Moving quick, I grabbed his ankles and held him, upside down, over a small ledge. The blood would quickly rush to his head. "Are you sure now?"

"Okay! Okay, okay! We'll form our own alliance!" He said. Then he held his arms up (or down), and I dropped him. He cart wheeled back onto his feet. "Wow, Duncan. Juvie really made you a scary dude." He finished, chuckling nervously.

* * *

"Good. Now that we're all agreed, Guys United, save our butts from elimination!" I said, raising my hand and putting it in the center of us four. DJ and Owen agreed with me, and put their hands in. Geoff was hesitant.

"Uh, are you in, dude?" I asked impatiently.

He looked very concerned for a minute, then put his hand in. Once he did, Owen said, "Oh, I am so psyched! A dude's alliance! I love it! It's so manly! Yea! Come here!" He said, before grabbing me and DJ, kissing DJ once and me about four times. We backed away, and I cringed. He looked at us for a second, then smacked himself in the head.

"Alright. Now clear out." I said.

"What?!" Geoff asked.

"I was here first, dude. This is my hiding spot." I grinned, teasing. They all grumbled, but I knew they didn't really care. They all probably would have done the same thing.

* * *

A little while later, I found myself lifted by the back of my shirt, and I flailed. Looking around, I saw that it was Chef holding me up, and I glared. "Alright already, you got me! Sheesh!"

"Well, I guess that's everyone, then." Geoff said.

"But what about LeShawna?" Owen asked. Chef's face fell.

"LeShawna? But I searched everywhere!" Chef said in surprise. Then he gasped softly and whispered, "The water!" He took off towards the beach, while I stayed behind, walking slowly back to camp. If he'd missed LeShawna, she'd managed to get back to the chair. She already won this game. Therefore, she couldn't be voted off. Nor could Heather; Owen had whispered to me that she was invincible too. Gwen walked with me, and we were silent.

Then, out of nowhere, she said, "Hey, Duncan?"

"Hm?"

"This is kind of a weird question, but how did you get over Courtney getting kicked off?" She asked.

This put me in an awkward predicament. The only reason I got over it was because Eva had "let slip" some information. And she said that if she'd told me outright, she'd get kicked off. Did that mean if I told Gwen, I'd get kicked off?

Then again, Gwen was my friend, and she was really hurting. I knew how she felt right now, and I would never want to be back there. So what should I do? Save a friend or save myself?

'_You know the answer to this, Duncan._' The inner voice said. I almost jumped. '_She's your friend. You're supposed to help her._' He told me, sounding like a parent.

'_But what if I get kicked off because of it?_' I asked.

'_Are you really so selfish? You remember how that felt. Do you really want to put someone else through that?_' He asked, then sort of faded out.

I sighed. He was right. It wasn't fair for me, who had all this knowledge, to keep it to myself. But I wanted to be vague about it, just in case I was being watched. Plus, I didn't want to reveal my sources. Eva was cool. I didn't want her getting in trouble. So I said, "Well, I just figured that I'm going to see her again very, **very** soon." I said, and weighted each word. I wanted her to read in between the lines, and I think she did, because she paused for a second, then said, "Oh!"

"And, since I'm going to see her in the **very** near future, I decided, you know, what's the point in being sad when I have a game to win?" She nodded.

We walked in silence for a while. I was still trying to contemplate who we wanted to vote off. Not Gwen or Izzy; they could both be assets to us. And we couldn't vote off LeShawna or Heather. That left Lindsay or Bridgette. To be honest, even if I hadn't hated Bridgette, I probably would have wanted to vote her off anyways. She was the biggest threat to us. Plus, she **reeked** right now.

So that decided it. Bridgette was out.

* * *

Gwen and I split up when we reached the cabins. Before she did though, she grabbed my hand and gave me an awkward hug. "Thanks, Duncan."

Once she let me go, I shrugged. "No problem. I was where you are once, and I had to get through it on my own. So why not share the wisdom, you know?" Then I waved her goodbye, and entered my cabin.

Geoff and DJ were in there, waiting for me. "Owen's in the washrooms. He'll be out in a while." DJ told me. I nodded. "So," He went on to asked. "Have you thought about who we should vote off?"

I nodded. "Let's wait for Owen, and they go onto the dock so they don't overhear us." I said. They agreed, and we just hung around the cabin for a while, waiting for Owen. We didn't really talk. None of us really had anything to say.

Owen finally came back inside, and said, "So, decided who we're voting off?"

I nodded. "Come on."

We walked out to the dock, and sat down. They all looked at my expectantly, and I said, "Geoff, I'm really sorry, but it's got to be Bridgette."

"What?!" He shouted in surprise. "Why?!"

"Because we can't vote off LeShawna or Heather. They're both invincible. Gwen and Izzy could both be an asset to us, because we could persuade both of them to vote with us, and between Lindsay and Bridgette, Bridgette's the bigger threat."

DJ and Owen nodded in silent agreement. Geoff continued to look completely perplexed. "So, it's agreed. We vote Bridgette off." I said finally.

"No, wait! She could still be an asset to us." Geoff tried to persuade.

"Oh really? You dig the way she smells right now?" I asked. Geoff knew what I was talking about. Skunk-smell didn't go away very easily; she would smell that way for at least another week. As it were, he bit his lip and looked over to her. She waved. He waved back, then turned around and looked panicked.

Then he widened his eyes, smiled, and said, "Why don't we vote Heather off? She's got dirt on all of us, dude."

"Because we can't." I said flatly. Did he **really** forget already, or was he just that desperate to save her? "She's got invincibility again. Besides, everyone likes Bridgette, and she's great at sports." And I really hate her. "We might not get another chance, dude. All in favor of booting Bridgette?" I asked commandingly. I put my hand in the center, and DJ and Owen put theirs on top of mine. I grinned. "That settles it. Here's to the guy's alliance." Then I noticed that Geoff still hadn't put his hand in, so I said, "Geoff?"

He looked panicked when he finally lowered his hand. I smiled. "Good." I stood up. "Glad we got that settled." I walked towards land again, and said, "I'm off to the confessional. See you guys later."

* * *

'_Was that really necessary?_' He sounded disappointed.

'_What do you mean?_' I retorted, walking down to the confessional.

'_Booting off Bridgette just because you don't like her._' I rolled my eyes.

'_It's not just because I don't like her. She's the biggest threat to us right now. The fact that I don't like her is just an added bonus._' I reasoned.

'_You know that's not true._ _Lindsay is just as much of a threat, being Heather's ally, and you know it. You just wanted her off because you're jealous of Geoff._'

'_No I'm not._' I growled. But I was. I was jealous of Geoff. Jealous of how easily he'd swayed Bridgette. Jealous of how perfectly they worked. Jealous of how Bridgette was still here, still with him. Then I grinned. '_But not for long._' And before the voice could say anything more, I scribbled Bridgette's name on the paper and put it in the box.

* * *

Even after explaining my reasoning to him, I couldn't help but feel that Geoff might still try to get Bridgette to stay by not voting for her. So, after dinner, I waited for Lindsay to finish eating. She was the fastest one done every night, and the first one to leave. She and Heather never left together. So, once she left, I stood up, claimed a stomachache, and went after her.

"Hey, Lindsay! Wait up!" I shouted.

She stopped, turned around, and smiled at me. "Oh! Hiya Doug!"

"Hi Lindsay." I said. Then I put on my smoothest, most safe voice, and I said, "Say, Lindsay, who are you voting for tonight?"

She smiled. "Oh. Heather told me I have to vote for Owen."

I frowned. "Heather told you to?" I was good. I was really good. "Well, that doesn't sound very fair, does it?"

She looked at me, confused, her head tipped to one side. "What do you mean?"

I put my arm around her shoulders, and we walked forward. "Well, I just don't think it's very fair for you to have to vote for Owen just because Heather told you to. I mean, you're your own girl. You're smart, tactical, independent. Why should Heather be in charge of you? She's not any smarter than you. She's not as creative. And let's face it, in a beauty contest, Heather would definitely win second place." I said, winking. She beamed. At least the last part was true. "You should vote for who **you **want to vote for." I said carefully. "Who do **you** want to vote for, Lindsay?"

"I want to vote for... uh..." She paused. "I don't really know. Who are you voting for, Doug?"

I smiled. This was working exactly as I'd hoped. "Well, I'm voting for Bridgette. Have you smelled her yet? Pyu!" I said, waving my hand in front of my face. "I don't want her to be stinking up your stuff. Do you know how long it would take to get that smell out? Yikes!" I said slowly. I watched her face as the message sunk in, and I almost laughed. It was too easy.

"You know, Doug, I'm glad I talked to you. You're so nice! I can't believe I thought you were so mean!" She threw her arms around me, and I hugged her back. Anything to get her on my side. "Thanks a ton! You're so right. I don't need to listen to Heather." She smiled, and started to walk away.

"One more thing, though, Lindsay." I said, grabbing her hand. She stopped and turned back around to face me, a questioning look on her face.

"If anybody asks, you voted for Owen. And we never had this discussion." I said. She looked confused. I made up an excuse on the spot. "We don't want anybody asking weird questions." I said, and winked again. "Besides, you want to keep your alliance with Heather for as long as you can. She'll get you through the game for a while. I know you don't want to have to put up with her, but in this game, you want to take as much help as you can get." I told her. She nodded.

"Oooh!" She said, drawing it out. "Gotcha." She nodded, smiled, and skipped towards the confessional. I stood and watched her for a few minutes, smiling a wicked smile. That had worked out a lot better than I'd planned. If all went well tonight and Bridgette got the boot, I'd have to rethink keeping Izzy and Gwen. Lindsay would work out just fine as an impromptu alliance member. She wouldn't be able to function on her own; she'd always be looking for someone else's opinion on who to vote off, and as long as I was smart about it, keeping Lindsay on my side and not Heather's would be easy. I started to feel a strange kind of hopeful. I might just win this game after all.

* * *

It was down to me, Owen and Bridgette. I wasn't worried at all. Unless Owen and DJ completely betrayed me, I had nothing to worry about at all. In fact, I was almost looking forward to Bridgette getting kicked out. At least her smell would be gone. I learned that the hard way; I had to sit next to her. I would definitely have to be sure to get to the Bonfire Ceremony faster from now on.

"There are only two marshmallows left on this plate." Chris said solemnly. "You each racked up a lot of votes. One of you is going home tonight. And can **not** return. **Ever**." He declared. "The next marshmallow goes to..." He paused for about ten seconds, then said, "Owen."

Owen ate his marshmallow, then shouted, "Woohoo! Alright!"

"The final marshmallow of the night goes to..." He paused again, looking at both of us intently. I sat, quite comfortably, waiting for Chris to say my name. I knew I wasn't going home. I'd worked everything out perfectly. I knew it wouldn't be me. "Duncan." Then he threw my marshmallow at me, and everyone gasped while I examined my marshmallow intently, then ate it.

"Okay. That was a shocker. Even I'm shocked, and I knew the answer." Chris said, throwing the plate to the ground.

* * *

Bridgette was escorted up to the cabins to grab her things. We all stayed down by the fire. I sat alone. As did Heather. But everybody else was surrounding Geoff, trying to make him feel better.

I really didn't feel the least bit bad. It was terrible, I know, but I didn't feel anything short of happy. Finally, one of the biggest pains on the island was gone. Plus, I had my alliance. **Plus**, I had Lindsay's support, should I need it in the future. To be honest, I was starting to feel good about this game. Compared to the rest of the campers, I was pretty well qualified to make it to the final three at least. Maybe even the final two. But I knew that it didn't necessarily work like that, so I vowed to work as hard as I could towards continuing our plan. Knock out the chicks. Beat the crap out of the other guys. I could do it. I knew I could.

Bridgette came back down a few minutes later, but we all had advance warning because of her odor. Carrying her unused surfboard and suitcase, she passed right by us without looking at us, and headed to the dock. I imagine she was feeling betrayed, and I have to admit, that made me kind of happy in a sick, vengeful kind of way.

Once she was halfway down the dock, she turned and looked back at us. Geoff held up his hand, and she stopped walking. "Bridgette! I'm gonna miss you!" He called over to her. She smiled.

"Me too! So you didn't vote me off?" She asked, relief painted across her face.

"No way!" He called back, running towards her. I knew it! Thank God for Lindsay being gullible. I could have gotten kicked off! The thought made my heart beat quickly for about two seconds.

"You didn't?!" I shouted, my hands in the air, an angry expression on my face. He cringed, but ignored me.

"I could never vote you off, babe! You're my girl!" He said. The more he spoke, the angrier and more jealous I got. Of course he would be able to say goodbye to her properly. Just another thing the producers gave him and didn't allow me. If I'd been able to properly say goodbye to Courtney, so much heartbreak could have been avoided. I would have been able to give her the note, and I wouldn't have spent so much time fretting over the fact that I would never see her again.

"Aww! I believe you!" She shouted. Then she dropped her stuff and they walked towards each other. That was it for me. I stormed away angrily, furious that he would break our alliance just because he needed to have 'his girl' with him. What a baby. Unless another relationship formed soon, all of the couples on the island had been separated except for his. Fair was fair. It was time for his to end.

* * *

Geoff finally came back in, looking depressed and a little wary. I ignored him. I figured a couple days' worth of cold shouldering might get through to him. DJ and Owen followed my example, or at the very least, followed it whenever I was around. I started to have suspicions that they didn't actually like me at all, but that they were afraid of me, and the thought caused me to frown. I'd never done anything to physically harm them. Well, except Owen and the whole 'upside-down' thing. Maybe they were more worried about what I was capable of? I'm not sure.

What I was sure of, though, was that I was going to need a new alliance, and fast. I had to sever ties with them and form new ones quickly before they managed to vote me off, because I was absolutely positive that, given the chance, they would take it. And I could not have that.

I fell asleep, the night before the next challenge, just thinking about who I would form the alliance with, and when I woke up, I had a clear, if unfortunate, idea.


	30. That's Off the Chain

**A/N:** Happy wonderful holidays, guys. I hope yours were as thrilling and bountiful as mine were. :)  
I celebrate Christmas, like I assume many of my readers do, though if you don't, that's perfectly fine. Anyways, since I celebrate Christmas, naturally, on Christmas day, I received several gifts from "Santa Clause." One of the aforementioned gifts... was a laptop.  
Yes, readers, your happy author received a laptop for Christmas. Which means that updates won't take about three months to come out.  
I would bet that I'm just as happy as you are about that. Maybe happier.

Anyways, besides that, this chapter has nothing to do with Christmas. At all. I mean, it's summer in this world. So if they suddenly started celebrating Christmas, that would be weird. xD

But besides my happiness over my Christmas gift, I had a wonderful Christmas besides. I saw my dad for the first time in a while. Then I went to my mom's friend's house and we hung out for a while. Then I went home and went to sleep. When I woke up, I started on this chapter. So, enjoy it! And again, happy holidays!

Warning: no real swears, but there's some... not so nice language. Just so you know. :)  
Okay, seriously, enjoy it now! :D

* * *

Once I decided who I would have in my alliance, the rest of my plan was easy. If the next challenge were an easy one, I had no excuse to ditch my perfectly-fine alliance with the guys. Sure, they weren't happy with me right now, but that was no excuse to mutiny and betray me. As far as I knew. And to be honest, even if it were, it wouldn't matter to me. It should be scary for everybody else to be dealing with a guy who really had nothing to lose and everything to gain; if I lost, I got Courtney. If I won, I got a hundred thousand dollars **and** Courtney. To be honest, I couldn't be too disappointed with either.

When my alliance with the guys showed even a sign of failing, my next alliance would have to remain on the down low for two reasons: I would trick the other guys the same way they were "tricking" me; pretend to remain loyal to our alliance. The other reason is because I was fairly certain that Izzy, Heather, Gwen and Lindsay wouldn't want to know they were all voting together until the last possible minute.

I knew I could do it. It would be easy. Gwen was my friend; she'd vote with me if I asked her to. I had already tricked Lindsay; tricking her again would be cake. Izzy was crazy; as long as we weren't voting off Owen (who I **knew** she had taken a shine to), she could easily be coerced, and as long as I made Heather out to be the leader, it would be easy to trick her into forming an alliance with me.

I had all the pieces planned out. Now, to see if they would fall into place.

* * *

After breakfast, Owen, Gwen, DJ, LeShawna and I decided to play catch with a Frisbee that we'd found under one of the cabins. We'd invited everybody else, but all of them said they were busy. After Lindsay had said that, she winked at me, which led to the others giving me a strange look for a while. I had just shrugged. "I dunno. I complimented her on her shirt, and since then, she's been acting funny. Maybe she's sweet on me." I lied. They didn't ask for any more explanation than that.

About an hour after we'd started playing, we heard very loud shouts coming from the outhouse confessional. Upon closer inspection, they sounded more like long, drawn out sobs, and I rolled my eyes when I realized it was Geoff.

"Ooh. Sounds like Geoff's having a hard time accepting Bridgette's been kicked off, huh?" LeShawna asked.

I nodded. "Yea. He's so weak." I said disapprovingly. I knew that I had been roughly the same, and that I had no place to talk, but to be honest, I had no pity for Geoff. His was the longest relationship to last on the island, and I had no sympathy when he'd been lucky enough for so long. "Um... we'd better go check on him." I said to DJ and Owen. They agreed, and we started walking towards the confessional.

"Wait, what about our game?" LeShawna asked. I shrugged, and DJ and Owen followed me as we ran towards the confessional.

* * *

"That'a boy. Hug it out." Owen said, wrapping his arms around Geoff and lifting him up. I could swear I heard his back crack about twelve times.

"Look, man. Voting Bridgette off was just a strategic move." No it wasn't. "If the guy alliance stands strong, we can win this." I said. No point in telling them that only one of us would win it. They'd figure it out eventually, and by that point, it would probably be too late for them. "So are you in?" I asked, putting my fist in. DJ and Owen were quick to put theirs in too, but Geoff hesitated again.

"I dunno, man. Going on without Bridge is like..." Then he sniffed, and his face blanked. "Whoa. Is that bacon? Aw! Crap! Did I miss breakfast?!" He asked, running towards the Main Lodge.

I grinned. I knew Geoff wouldn't take long. "I think Geoff's in."

Just as I finished my statement, a long, loud screeching sounded from overhead, and Chris' voice rang out, "Morning, campers! Your next challenge awaits you at the arts and crafts center. Be there in ten. MacLean, out." A loud crackling sound ended Chris' rather short speech.

"What do you think it is?" Owen asked. I snorted.

"Who can build a birdhouse the fastest? I don't know." I shook my head. "Whatever. You guys head over. I'm gonna go talk to Geoff." They nodded, and we parted ways.

'_I knew you could be a good guy._' The inner voice said. He sounded pleased.

'_Yea, whatever. I'm only telling him because he'll be weak in today's challenge if he's still hung up on her._' I rebutted. To be honest, that wasn't the reason, and I knew that since I knew it, the inner voice knew it too, but I still felt I had to defend myself, even if I was defending myself against myself.

* * *

"So, what you're saying is... Bridgette didn't go home?" Geoff whispered. I nodded impatiently. "And that I'll see her once I get kicked off?

"For the last time, Geoff, **yes**!" I shouted. I don't know how I didn't realize before the Geoff was thicker than molasses. Trying to be subtle about explaining the concept to him didn't work, and I had to very quietly explain to him that they hadn't gone home yet, but that they instead went somewhere until everybody else was voted off.

He was pleased. A giant smile nearly cracked his face in half, and he laughed crazily. I was about to punch him to get him back to his senses, but he stopped just as the idea crossed my mind. "Seriously, dude?"

"Geoff, if you ask me that one more time, I'm going to hit you. Hard." I growled impatiently.

He shook his head. "Sorry, man, I guess I'm just... relieved." He chuckled. "So, where are we going, anyways?" He asked, finally realizing that I was leading him away from our normal meeting locations.

"Arts and crafts tent. Probably, we're building birdhouses or something." I rolled my eyes.

He nodded. He was really happy about what I'd told him, and to be honest, though I wouldn't admit it under pain of death, I was glad to see him happy again. I hadn't realized that I sympathized for him until he put on a smile.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, and once we got there, Chris began explaining.

"Welcome to the arts and crafts center."He said for the camera's sake. We'd all been introduced to it before, but the cameras had never had the opportunity to shoot it.

"More like the arts and crap center." I said scathingly. It was a piece of junk. There weren't even any art supplies. Just paper and junk material.

"Yeaaaa." Chris said, pointing at it with his thumb. "It used to be an outhouse, but now it's where Chef parks his road hog." He said, kicking the door open. The other guys and I ran forward and peeked inside...

And were stunned. Shiny red, hot rod flames and brand new, a motorcycle like none I had ever seen before made my mouth water. Not literally; it was a figure of speech. But it was amazing. Chris shut the door, saying, "Chef'll get mad," and continued to explain the challenge. "Which brings us to your challenge. Building your own... wheels!"

"Hot rods! Yea! Awesome! Give me five! Woohoo!" He said, extending his arm to high five me. I just gave him a blank look until he put his arm down.

"You'll find all the parts you need in your bike depot." Chris said, gesturing to a pile of junk bikes.

"Bicycles. Less awesome, but still... good... Right?" Owen trailed off, sounding ten times less enthused. To be honest, building bikes instead was much better than building a motorcycle. I'd never build a motorcycle before, but I knew bikes like I knew the back of my hand.

"Once you've collected the basics, trick 'em out any way you want using props from the arts and crafts center." He said, putting his helmet on and jumping on his four-wheeler. "Best design wins." He called as he drove away. "And! To prove I'm a nice guy, I'm even throwing in a bike manual." He said, tossing a moldy old book backwards as he drove away.

* * *

I filtered through the pile for parts. Most of the bikes in the depot were crusty old things that were less safe than explosives, but the majority of them still had pretty good pieces, and the ones that didn't at least had nuts and bolts that were good.

Building a bike isn't difficult. There aren't really that many parts, either, but you have to make sure the ones you have are good. Really, all you need is a frame, a seat, a chain and some gears, pedals, two wheels and handlebars. I could put together a functioning bike in minutes. But I had to specially design this one; it had to look nice. So I had to be careful with it.

I walked through the arts and crafts center for a few minutes, looking for nice-looking things when I saw it. A small skull, mine for the taking. I grabbed it and examined it closely. There was a small scratch on the top of it, indicating a past fracture if it had been real. Other than that, it was perfect; nothing was wrong with it at all. So I took it, deciding to use it on my bike. I also found a can of spray paint, but I wasn't sure what color it was. I could try it out later. I pocketed it, and headed back to my pile of parts.

* * *

Besides needing to hammer a few parts into proper shape, the actual building part wasn't that hard. I've known how to build bikes since I was about twelve. But the designing part was a bit more difficult. The skull fit in as a head piece nicely, and the spray paint was brown and looked cool, but besides that, I didn't really know what to do.

I didn't focus on the conversations much. I was more concerned with my bike, which was coming together pretty nicely.

My bike took about an hour and a half to build, and then I had plenty of time after that. So I went through the arts and crafts tent again, looking for more things to design with when I found it: the motor.

* * *

"Wicked _Mad Max_-mobile dude!" Chris said. I beamed. I was proud of my bike; I was even more proud of the fact that it was motorized. I wasn't sure where the motor had come from, or where Chef's motorcycle had gone to, but I didn't really think about it or care that much; I had successfully put together a motorcycle for the first time, and I was more than proud of myself.

After Chris had gone through everybody else's bikes, he came back in front of all of us and said, "Hey, where's Izzy and LeShawna?"

Everybody exchanged looks, and when nobody came forward, Chris shrugged, and said, "Oh, well. Their loss, 'cause this is where it gets good." He smiled, and continued. "We're gonna race these babies, **hard**!"

"Ha! Awesome!" Heather said, stepping towards Chris, "because my bike is built for speed, right Lindsay?"

"Totally!" Lindsay said cheerfully.

"Yea, unfortunately, you won't be riding it, Heather. You'll be switching bikes." He announced. My face fell into one of horror. What if I got stuck on Owen's bike? Or worse—Lindsay's? "Yea." Chris carried on. "Cruel twist, huh? Alrighty then!" He shouted, finally. "See you at the beach!"

* * *

"Okay, here's how it works: everyone picks a name out of the helmet to see whose bike you're riding. If your bike makes it across the finish line, then you get to ride it in the final round for invincibility." He said. We all ran forward to draw names. I crossed my fingers before looking at mine and groaned.

My paper read: 'Lindsay.'

I frowned, and eyed up her bike. Besides the totally embarrassing bell and horse head, it looked pretty well put together; it was rideable, if not likable.

"Now, before we start, has anyone seen LeShawna or Izzy?" Chris asked as we walked to our new bikes. I groaned again; it was pink. Nobody 'fessed up, so we pulled our bikes into line, and I saw that Owen had my bike. I groaned a third time. If he broke it, I would kill him.

"Okay, racers!" Chris shouted from atop his four-wheeler. On your marks... get set... (Paramedics on standby...) and... **drag**!" He shouted. I stood up and pedaled as hard as I could. The bike was surprisingly fast, all things considered. For all her lack of brains, Lindsay could build a pretty decent bike, and from me, that was more than a compliment. I was generally pretty picky about bikes or bike parts.

"Hey! Where are the pedals?" I managed to hear Owen shout from behind me. I grinned.

"Okay..." I said slowly, pedaling fast. "I know this is messed up, but... **yee-haw**! This is one **moving** ride!" I shouted in excitement. Her bike had proven to be better than I could have hoped. It was fast and lightweight, making it feel like it was going even faster.

"I know, right?!" Lindsay asked from next to me. I grinned at her. She was definitely worth having in an alliance. Heather didn't know what she was missing.

At long last, I finally saw Owen circle around me, and I was proud of my bike; it was faster than all the other bikes in the race. I grinned. Lindsay's bike was fine, but mine...

Perfection.

* * *

I crossed the finish line right after Lindsay, coming in third. Chef was covered in a pile of sand, waving a flag. I laughed. Owen and my bike were probably at fault.

"Yes! We have three awesome wipe-outs by Heather, Geoff and DJ! Four invincibility race winners! Owen's fun-machine, Heather's speed machine, Lindsay's Sunset-Sally and Duncan's lethal weapon."

Just as Chris finished his short speech, I heard Owen shout. "How do I stop this thing?!"

"Slam the hood ornament!" I shouted back. He did as I said, and while the bike stopped short, Owen went flying right into Chef, knocking him a few meters back. I snickered under my breath, congratulating myself.

"Awesome finish, Owen!" He said amusedly. "It's time to head over to the TDI Motocross!" He said, and drove off.

* * *

Just as I reached my bike and was about to pull the hood ornament to finally take my bike for a test drive, a producer ran up to me and said, "Duncan, hang on a second!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yea?"

He pulled a book from his bag and flipped open to a seemingly random page. "According to page 9, paragraph twelve of the rules for this contest, there are to be no motors, engines, or other mechanics of any kind used in this challenge." He said.

I frowned. "So, am I disqualified?" I asked, an edge in my voice.

"No. Chris hadn't told you, so we'll let it slide. But we do have to ask that you reattach your pedals and gears before the next race." He said, then darted back to the camera crew before I could hit him like I kind of wanted to. He watched me put the whole thing together; why didn't he stop me then?

Whatever.

I ran back to the arts and crafts tent and grabbed some gears, pedals and a chain and quickly reattached them to my bike. Then I tore the wire connecting the hood ornament to the motor just in case I tried to hit it and got kicked out by default.

As Geoff, Gwen and DJ sat up on the small cliff overlooking the "track" of sorts, the rest of us lined up, and Chris drove on his four-wheeler ahead of us.

"Wow! Sweet wheels!" Owen said to Lindsay. She smiled proudly.

"I know, right! And PS: I love yours." She said.

"Me too! It's so much fun to ride!" He responded cheerfully. I grabbed his ear.

"Dude! I've got one word for you: **focus**! Or I'm gonna kick your butt into next week."

He cringed. "Focus, right. Negatory on the fun. Done!"

"Camperrrrrrs!" Chris said, finally starting the challenge. "Welcome to the MOTO-MOTO-MOTO-CROSS-CROSS-CROSS CHALLENGE CHALLENGE CHALLENGE"! He said, repeating each word three times. Probably for special effect later. "Using your own bikes, you'll race the course, avoiding hidden pitfalls. Cue the death-traps!" He said. The cameras all shut off for a second, probably to run through the death traps, while Chris said, "There's dodging the land-mines. Maneuvering through the oil slick. And finally, jumping the piranhas." Then the cameras turned back on, and he said, "Oh! And one more thing! First one to cross wins invincibility. Last one to cross gets voted off the island. No Bonfire Ceremony, do not pass go, do not collect a marshmallow."

I raised an eyebrow. No big deal. I knew I was more than capable of winning a race, even if my bike no longer had its motor.

"Racers! Take your position. Aaand... go!"

We were off. I stood up and pedaled as hard as I could. We were all pretty much tied, except for Heather who, for some foreboding reason, hung back. We reached the landmines. My heart started beating fast. If I hit one, would I be able to keep myself up? Will I explode? What would happen?

I didn't have to worry. The land mines weren't explosive enough to hurt me or my bike; it just threw me up, and as I fell back down, I hit more of them. Unfortunately, Owen wasn't so lucky. He hit one, and was thrown sideways.

Next was the oil slick. I had just gotten halfway through it when I turned the handlebars just slightly, and completely lost control. I wiped out and got drenched in oil. I groaned again. I'd be tasting that for weeks.

When I managed to stand up, I walked towards the others, leaving my bike where it was. Without the motor, it was pretty much the same as all my other bikes back home, so I didn't really mind leaving it where it was. However, when I tried to walk forward, I slipped and fell over. I sighed, and crawled slowly out of the slick, and walked back towards Heather, Lindsay, Chris, Chef and Owen in time to hear Heather say, "Heheh. I don't know what she's talking about. You should just leave with your dignity intact. It'll make you seem much more cuter in the instant replays."

"But... we were going to the final three together." Lindsay said, confused.

"Guess we're not." Heather said nonchalantly.

"Aren't you even sad? We're BFFs!"

"Yea, for the contest. I mean it's not like we're going to be best friends for life or anything." She said coldly. Lindsay gasped. Then glared. And when I say 'glared,' I mean **glared**.

"I can't believe you just said that! But… we pinky swore! You mean, I've been helping you all this time, and you didn't even **like** me?!"

"Truth?" Lindsay nodded, so she said, "Not really, no." Lindsay gasped again, which Heather took no note of. However, she did take note of everyone else's glares. "What? We're not here to make friends. We're here to become celebrities, remember?"

"Ooh. That's cold, bro." I said, feeling bad for Lindsay, who looked like she was going to cry.

"Oh, like you're such a team player." She volleyed. "All you do is go around scaring the crap out of everyone."

"At least I'm straight with people!" I shouted back. There was **no** way she was going to compare herself to me.

"Whatever." She said, rolling her eyes. "I have invincibility. **No one** can touch me." She said, walking off with her nose in the air. I was about to go after her, but Lindsay got to her first.

"You really are mean! And all that bad stuff that people say about you is true!" Lindsay said, glaring again. "Like how you're a two-faced, back-stabbing, lying little—!" Then, Lindsay cut off into a very long chain of expletives, in the middle of which, Lindsay raised her middle finger. My jaw dropped. I'd **never** heard anybody curse like that, let alone Lindsay. "And I always told them they were wrong. I stood up for you, because I thought we were BFFs! But they're right! You really **are** a two-faced, back-stabbing, lying little—!" She broke off into the long chain of expletives again, and my eyes widened when my jaw shut. "And guess what! I don't **want** to be BFFs anymore." She said. Heather finally let the shocked expression fall from her face, in place of a more dangerously angry looking one. "I'd rather spend the day staring at Owen's** butt ** than shopping with you. And PS: your shoes are **tacky**." She finished as Heather gasped.

Everybody else laughed and cheered, and Gwen shouted, "You tell her!"

"Oh, go jump in the piranha pool!" She said, then stalked off. As she did so, LeShawna and Izzy appeared suddenly, flying through the air, then landing straight in the lake. As they resurfaced, LeShawna looked dizzy and half-conscious, and Izzy looked thrilled to the core.

Once Izzy dragged LeShawna back to land, we all surrounded LeShawna, who had definitely gone into shock.

"Come on." I said, eyeing the Paramedics who were approaching, noticing that they all wore the red 'intern' tag. "Let's get her to the Main Lodge and give her something to eat."

* * *

DJ helped me drag LeShawna back to the Main Lodge, while Geoff and Owen distracted the Paramedic interns. Gwen ran into the kitchen and dug through the fridge before coming out with a bottle of water and some yogurt. I raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "It's the best I could find so fast. I'll go make her a sandwich." She said before running back into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's okay." LeShawna finally said weakly. "I'm fine."

"You went into shock." I said, grabbed the yogurt and water. "Eat it."

She sighed, and took the yogurt and a spoon.

"So, what happened?" DJ asked curiously once she'd eaten half the yogurt.

"Izzy took me for a bike ride." LeShawna said darkly. That was explanation enough. Izzy was completely insane. She finished the yogurt just as Gwen came out with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "So, what did I miss?"

"You mean besides Lindsay finding out just how much of a skank Heather is and calling her out on it? Nothing." Gwen said, handing her the sandwich.

"No! Get outta here! Really?!" LeShawna asked, about to take a bite.

We all nodded, grinning. "Oh yea. The chick can curse better than any sailor I've ever heard of." I said, chuckling throughout.

She smiled a large smile. "Well, imagine that!" Then she took a bite. "So, who's going home?"

We all frowned and looked away. Then LeShawna frowned. "Oh, no. Don't tell me..."

"She finished last in the race. She thought Heather would protect her." Gwen said. LeShawna glared at nothing.

"That two-timing back-stabbing little..." LeShawna trailed off. We all looked out the window to see Lindsay heading towards the cabin as Heather headed out towards the beach. They completely avoided each other's eyes. Even though I felt bad for Lindsay, I was proud of her, too. She had done pretty well for herself, all things considered.

"Well, come on. We have to go down to the dock to say goodbye to her." DJ said. We all nodded, and left."

* * *

Lindsay wasn't far behind us. None of us had really let our possessions spread out very far, so packing up didn't take very long. She dragged her pink rolling bag behind her as she said, "Thanks for all your support, Greta. I love you, LaQuisha." She said, giving LeShawna a hug.

"Take care, girlfriend. If it makes you feel better, we would have kept you on." She said.

"Really? Thanks." Then she walked forward, and said, "Kick Heather's butt for me."

"My pleasure." LeShawna said excitedly.

Then she came to me, Geoff and DJ. "Bye, guys! See you at the finale!" She parted, and waved. Next was Owen, who looked very sad. She sighed, and said, "I think I'm gonna miss you the most!" Then she threw her arms around him. He sniffed, then hugged her back, lifting her up and crying out sadly.

"Me too! Bye!" Then he put her down. She fell backwards a few steps, then shook her head and walked forward. Last but not least was Heather, who was forced to come down by the producers.

"Good luck, Heather." She said calmly. "I hope you get everything your karma owes you." Then she looked back and smiled. "Okay. I'm ready." She said, then boarded the Boat of Losers proudly. We all waved goodbye except for Heather until we couldn't see the boat anymore. Then, we dispersed. I was the second last to go, not because I would particularly miss Lindsay, but because I was deep in thought. I now had to find completely new alliance members, except for Gwen. Obviously I couldn't have Lindsay in my alliance anymore, which would leave Heather and Gwen, but, and I know I couldn't afford to be picky, but I did **not** want Heather in my alliance. She couldn't be trusted, even in an alliance where she thought she was the leader. I needed people I could trust, and at least three of them. Gwen, I would keep in an alliance. Izzy could be useful if I could persuade her. LeShawna **might** be of service, but she'd been acting weird lately; smiling at me or waving at me; it was weird. I really hoped she wasn't sweet on me. Besides them, there really wasn't anybody else if I were going to be out one Guy's Alliance. There was always Owen if I were really in a pinch, and I could get Heather to vote for the right person, but I wanted to keep my options open.

Right in the middle of my train of thought, I was interrupted by a, "Duncan! Hey! I didn't notice you here." I shook my head and looked to my side. Heather was there, too close for comfort. I took a step back.

"What's up?" I asked, nonchalant.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the game. You know, of all the contestants left, you're really the only one I'm worried about. Did you know that?"

I knew what she was up to. Her old alliance had disbanded. Now, she needed a new one, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to make friends at this point. So now, she had to rely on flattery. I grinned, pretending to be flattered. "Well, I do now."

She laughed softly. "You're so funny, Duncan." Then she got closer. I didn't move away this time. She took my arm, and said, "You know, Duncan, you and me are a lot alike."

"You and I." I said.

A brief look of confusion replaced her cunning smile. "Um... what?"

"It's you and I, not you and me." I said.

If I weren't looking, I wouldn't have noticed the very brief angry expression. The sly smile was quick to take its place. "Right. You and I. You and I are a lot alike, you know. We're both strategists. We're both logical. We're both very intelligent." I almost laughed. "So, I was thinking, maybe you and I should work together. We can take each other to the final two, and then, we can finish this contest properly, between the two best competitors. So, are you in?"

I thought about it for a second, weighing my options. On the one hand, here was a second alliance, practically throwing itself at me. Once the boys started their mutiny (which I **knew** was coming), I had a second alliance as a safety net. But on the other hand, it was Heather. Why form an alliance with Heather when I didn't have to?

"Can I think about it and get back to you, or do you need an answer right now?"

She smiled graciously. "Take as much time as you need, but I would like an answer by the next challenge."

I nodded. "I can get back to you by dinner tomorrow." I told her. She nodded too, and smiled.

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Same time, same place?" She asked. I nodded again, and she smiled. "Great. I'll see you then." Then she walked off towards the cabins.

I smiled widely, almost evilly. This game was in the bag.


	31. Hook, Line and Screamer

**A/N:** Hey guys. Chapter 31. :D

This chapter is... I want to say different, but it's not. I don't know how to explain it. I guess you'll have to wait and see. Writing this one was pretty fun. Not my favorite, but still pretty good. There are allusions to sex, and maybe some swears. I can't remember.

Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

I had been waiting on the dock for about twenty minutes, mulling over exactly what I would say to Heather. It had been a difficult decision; I really didn't want to be in an alliance with her, but at the same time, if I waited to join her until it was I who needed her, I wasn't so sure she would be lenient with me. It was rough, choosing. But once I came to my conclusion, I was glad to have picked it.

She came strutting down the dock, looking for all the world like a supermodel. As much as I didn't like her, I had to admit, she was **really** hot. And, had I never met Courtney, I would have used every trick up my sleeve to get her to sleep with me. But I was gladly not that guy anymore. I felt a short surge of pride. Then she stopped less than a foot away from me. Whoever said that proximity was a good trick of persuasion totally had it backwards; my personal space felt way too intruded upon to be comfortable. She looked at me expectantly. I took a deep breath.

"Hey Heather? How's it going?" I asked nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes.

"Fantastic." She said impatiently. "What's your answer?"

I nodded. "Right. Well, Heather, you see, I don't think I can be in your alliance." My next step was to brace for an impact...

That never came. Instead of turning slightly pink and exploding at me like I expected her to, she just shrugged. "Fine."

I blinked. "That's it?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm capable of persuading the others, Duncan. I don't need you to win this game. I admit, having you on board would have helped, but like I said. You weren't a necessity."

I have to admit, I was really surprised. Pleasantly surprised. If she were this apathetic about my refusal, then there was hope for the future yet. "Okay. Cool." I shrugged. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you later."

"Yea. Oh, by the way, they're showing a movie tonight." She added. "Down by the bonfire pit. Chris told me at breakfast. He'll be announcing it to the others later."

I nodded. "Right. Thanks." Confused as to why she would bother telling me this and curious as to why Chris told her and not everybody else, I walked away, my hands in my pockets and my shoulders just slightly hunched.

That had gone ten times better than I thought.

* * *

Right after dinner, Heather's prediction came true; Chris came in and said, just as jovial as ever, "Helloooo, Campers!" With a wide smile, he looked at each of us in turn. He went on to say, "Have we got a treat in store for you tonight!"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me: something degrading and painful, right?"

"Wrong!" Chris yelled, pointing at her a la Phoenix Wright. I half expected him to shout '**objection**!' "The producers and I were watching movies earlier, and we saw this one really good one that we thought you'd like. So, we rented it for you. We'll be showing it to you all at eight o'clock." Then he deadpanned, and said, "Since we have provided you with such a kindness, we'd really appreciate it if all of you showed up." Then he smiled again, and said, "'Kay?"

We all grumbled in assent. What kind of horror would he have in store for us today?

* * *

What kind of horror was right, in a sense, although I should have said, 'What kind of horror **movie**.' I was thrilled to find out that the movie he'd rented for us was actually one of my old favorites; an old slasher film about some guy with a chainsaw—exactly my kind of movie. I sat on a stool closest to the projector, totally jazzed about tonight.

Once Chef started the movie, he left. I assumed he'd seen it already, and thought nothing more of it. Then I blocked out all other sound and focused all my attention on the movie.

I don't know what it is (and frankly, I don't want to), but every time I watch a slasher film, I get so into it that I completely ignore everything else going on around me. Someone could be stabbing me to death, and I probably wouldn't notice. I wanted to say it was because I get really into stories that interest me, but if that were true, then why was I so interested in movies about killing people?

Eventually, though, I was distracted by a loud gasp from next to me. I looked at DJ skeptically; really? He was afraid of a (rather lousy) horror movie? I didn't believe a chainsaw could even cut through him; I mean, have you ever **seen** his muscles?

Just as quickly, though, my attention was reverted to the screen for the final scene, in which the psycho killer chopped and hacked his way through a couple with a rusty, bloody old chainsaw. It was artistic and gruesome all at once. Maybe** that** was why I loved slashers so much; they managed to be both aesthetically pleasing and psychologically engrossing all at once, although if anyone ever asked me, I would probably just say "'Cause they're awesome."

"Oh, grooooss!" I shouted excitedly. Izzy shouted my exact sentiments before narrating the final scene.

"Izzy loves scary movies!" She finally said, jumping into Owen's arms.

"So does Owen." He replied, looking at us. I gave him the thumbs up. Owen was just as sweet on her as she was on him; they had a crush on each other since roughly halfway through the game, probably. It was about time the big guy got some love.

Then, the projector ran out of film, and the movie was completely over. DJ sighed in relief. "Am I ever glad **that's** over." He said, putting a hand to his face. He looked a bit green. Go figure the physically strongest guy here was a complete wuss. "I really **hate** scary movies."

"Oh yea?" I challenged. Then, narrating my speech with hand movements, I said, "What scares you most? The uh, part where everyone meets a grisly death, or the psycho killer **with the hook**?!" I asked, pulling out my ever-trusty fake hook hand. DJ screeched like a banshee and jumped behind LeShawna. We all laughed.

DJ just rolled his eyes. Gwen saw this and said, "Aww, c'mon, Deej, for a slasher flick, it was pretty tame." Her version of help wasn't exactly helping, but still.

"Yea! There was hardly any hacking." I agreed. "Not like Blood Bath II: Summer Camp Reign of Terror!"

"No way!" Gwen shouted from behind me, putting away the film reel. "That's my favorite movie!" She said, a bright look in her eyes. I grinned. Leave it to Gwen to be the only one I could really relate to here. How typical. "I loved when the killed jabbed that guy's hand into the lawnmower!"

"Ha! Or when he pushes the chick off the dock, and then she lands on a propeller blade that slices her in half!"

Then we both said, "Or when he shoves that big dude's head inside the wood chipper!" I laughed, and we slapped a high five. I bet, if we went to the same school, Gwen and I would have been good friends. And (since I guess today was the day to start noticing these things) she was really pretty. But I couldn't see myself ever being attracted to her, even if I had never met Courtney. It seems like Courtney was the one I'd been waiting for, like she was my soul mate.

I frowned internally. 'Soul mate?' How hokey. It felt so much less corny than that....

Heather 'aw'ed behind me. "Looks like Gwen and Duncan have more in common than bad fashion sense." She snapped at us. I rolled my eyes. "Just mindless guts and gore."

"Horror movies aren't mindless." Gwen argued.

"Yea." I agreed again. "They're loaded with psychological trauma. Look at DJ!" I said, gesturing to his current location—LeShawna's arms. I could just picture Harold's face far, far away from here, and I almost laughed again. Then I almost laughed a third time when LeShawna pushed him off.

"What**ever**." She retorted. Then she changed the subject, because she knew that she'd been beat. "Does anyone know what our challenge will be this week?"

"Yea!" Geoff chimed in. "Where's the Chris-meister?"

We all looked around for a minute, half-expecting him to pop up out of nowhere like he always seems to do at the most random of times. Finally, we all stood up and headed down to the dock, where we saw Chef throwing bags as quickly as possible onto the Boat of Losers.

"Hey, yo, Chef! Where's the fire?" I called out to him.

He gasped loudly, and jumped. He looked nervous about something. Then he jumped onto the boat, and he and Chris pulled it away as quickly as possible. I raised an eyebrow. Talk about overreaction. Then we noticed a bag that had been left behind.

"Dude! You forgot this!" Owen shouted to them. '_Because they can so hear you._' I thought sarcastically.

Then, a newspaper fell out of the bag that Owen had held up. It caught my eye as it fell and landed front-page down on the ground. Owen picked it up and began to read. "Escaped psycho killer on the loose. Be on the lookout for a man wearing a hockey mask with a hooked hand and carrying a chainsaw." He read. Then he looked up at us.

My heart started to beat faster. Really? A **real** psycho killer was on the loose? That wasn't good. In this area, a criminal is most likely going to swim out to one of the uninhabited islands in Lake Muskoka... and Camp Wawanakwa was one of them! Now, I wasn't altogether too worried; there must be a bunch of islands in Lake Muskoka, but the fact remained that he **could** pick ours...

That was a nerve-wracking thought.

"Haha!" Izzy shouted from next to Owen. I looked at her through wide eyes. How could she be laughing at a time like this?! "He's on the loose!" She cried excitedly.

"Oh, come **on**!" Heather groaned from next to Izzy. "They don't expect us to fall for this! Scary movie followed by hasty exit, followed by strategically placed lame prop?"

The idea that it was a ruse hadn't occurred to me. I figured that, since it was in a legit newspaper, they couldn't be lying. But then again, how hard was it to make a newspaper look legit, really?

"I don't know..." DJ trailed off. "He looked pretty spooked..."

"Puh-**lease**." She retorted. "It's all part of their little stunt to freak us out."

"If this was a stunt..." Owen said, rummaging through the bag, seemingly looking for something. "Would Chris leave behind his... hair gel?!"

I gasped, along with most of the others. Chris never went anywhere without his hair gel. It must have just been a coincidence; Chris couldn't go five minutes without fixing or touching his hair. His hair gel was like air to him. Leaving it behind was a pretty big indicator that something was seriously wrong.

"Whoa!" Gwen said, putting her hands on the side of her head. "This is for real!"

"Let me get this straight." DJ said, sounding terrified out of his mind. "Chris left us for dead, and now we're alone, while that escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw is on the loose?!"

"No." I corrected. "We're alone while that escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a **hook** is on the loose!" I said, making use of my hook prop for a second time. DJ freaked out just as much, if not more than before.

"I told you, dude!" He yelled at me from the ground. "**Not** funny!"

"Ugh. Neither is your Chicken Little routine. Get a grip, bro." LeShawna demanded.

"I can't help it." He said, still cowering on the ground. "I feel like we're being watched."

"Duh!" Heather commented. "It's a reality show. We're always being watched!"

"Look," Gwen pointed out. "It doesn't matter if this is real or a challenge. We need a game plan."

"Yea, yea, yea!" DJ agreed. "We need a game plan!"

"You little fright wigs might need a game plan, but I need a facial!" She said, strutting away with her nose in the air.

"Are you crazy?!" Gwen asked her incredulously. I, for one, was all for letting Heather go to die. It just goes to show that I really can be ruthless when I want to be. That thought didn't cheer me up. "First rule of slasher films: **never** go off alone!"

"I might actually listen to you if I were in a movie." She said flatly. "You're being Punked. You're so gullible." Then she looked around her and shouted. "Hey Chris, if you're listening: next time, rent one that takes place at a **summer camp**! If you losers want to hang around and play Boogeyman, then go ahead. But I have got a date with exfoliation." She said, then turned around and stalked off.

In a perfect closing sentence, Izzy said softly, "And the bossy mean chick seals her fate." Then she ran her fingers across her throat forebodingly.

* * *

Eventually, we found ourselves back at camp, around the fire. I noticed that Owen and Izzy had disappeared. I grinned, and thought, '_About freakin' time._'

"Okay, rule number one," Gwen started. "Do **not** go off on your own. Rule number two: If you do go off on your own, **never** go in the woods. Rule number three: If you do go in the woods, never, ever, **ever** make out in the woods or you will **die** in the woods! ... Where's Izzy and Owen?"

I winked at her. "Breaking rules one through three."

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, LeShawna, will you come with me? I want to go grab my sketchbook real quick." She nodded, and they left.

It was me, DJ and Geoff sitting there awkwardly, not talking. I wasn't sure how they felt about me right now, so I kept silent and just stared at the fire. It was a really good fire; I'd done a good job building it. Then Geoff and DJ whispered something to each other, and Geoff said, "Hey, man, we'll be right back. DJ's gotta pee." I nodded. I wasn't afraid of any hook handed dude with a chainsaw. I could take him.

Gwen and LeShawna were back in next to no time. Gwen spent about five minutes drawing something, and then put it up against a tree. It was pictures of all of the rest of us. For how little effort she'd spent drawing them, they turned out really well, but I didn't say anything. "Okay. Now that I've drawn a chart of all the players, we can—" She turned around and realized Geoff and DJ were missing. "Where's DJ and Geoff?"

"DJ had to take a leak, so he took party boy with him." I explained smugly. The rules dictated that they'd be next; mean bossy girl, couple making out, lovable jock and then the party boy; that's just how things went. Which meant that, if my analysis of horror movies was correct, it would come between me and Gwen. I grinned in anticipation. This was going to be good.

Suddenly, we heard screaming coming from the washrooms. Gwen got a panicked looked in her eye, shouted, "Stay here!" to me and LeShawna, then ran as fast as she could.

It was quiet. LeShawna and I didn't really have anything to say to each other; we'd never really talked much in the past, never really had anything to talk about. So it was quiet. Then out of nowhere, I heard a really strange rumbling sound, and realized it was her stomach. She groaned, then rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go get something to eat." She said, standing up and walking away, grumbling something about "psycho killer my foot...." I was alone again, and still not worried about any psycho that might come my way. In fact, I was glad she'd left; she was out next, which meant now, it was just between me and Gwen.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

When Gwen came back, I heard her mumbling something about, "stupid, prissy know-it-all..." For a second, I thought she'd been talking about Courtney, but then I realized that was stupid, and that she probably meant Heather. Then she noticed it was only me, and frowned. "Where's LeShawna?!"

"She went to get some chow!" I said, pointing towards the Main Lodge. Gwen growled in frustration.

"Doesn't **anyone** listen to me?!" She asked bitterly, drawing black Xs over LeShawna, Izzy and Owen. Then she sighed again. "Where's Geoff?"

"Probably bit it with DJ." I said, and shrugged.

She rolled her eyes. "No surprise. Rule number eight: The party guy is the prime target for psycho killers, right after the big, lovable jock." Then she got up and crossed off Geoff and DJ. Meanwhile, I grabbed a stick off the ground and stuck it in the fire until it lit. Then I pulled it back and watched it burn in front of my face. I was completely entranced. The fire was so small, but so powerful...

Then I looked to my right and found another stick. This one, I stuck into the tip of the first one and waited for it to catch.

"You know what really ticks me off? That I was trying to **help** them." She said. She sounded really irritated.

I just grinned. "Live and learn, sweetheart." I probably would have said something more relevant, but I had two fires now, and I was a bit distracted.

"You really are a pyro, aren't you?" She asked, sounding slightly nonplussed at the change of subject. I just shrugged.

"So? I like burning stuff." I said half-heartedly. What did it matter, really?

"Is that what you got sent to Juvie for?" She asked, sitting back down across from me.

In that split second, several things crossed my mind. The first thing (or person, I should say) was Bridgette; I remembered her asking me what I did to get myself landed in Juvie. The next thing was what actually **did** land me in Juvie, and my heart skipped fast for about three seconds. The final thing to cross my mind was Courtney, and my heart stopped for a split second.

All this happened so quickly that none of it registered on my face, which was good, because the short pause was already too long for a normal conversation. "Ha! Like I'd tell you why I went to Juvie." I said, holding out one of the flames too far and accidentally (on purpose) setting her notebook on fire. When she ran to go fetch some water, I threw the sticks back on the fire, grinned, and said, "And then there was one."

Suddenly, from behind me, I heard someone whisper, "Duncan...duncan...duncan... Juvie...juvie...juvie..."

I grinned crazily, stood, and walked in that direction. "It's you and me, psycho."

* * *

I wasn't sure exactly what had come over me. I think whatever it was was spurned by Gwen's question, and the emotions it caused. Predominantly guilt, but also shame, and depression, and loneliness and helplessness, and I hated feeling all of them. It was my fault that man...

Well. I would have to try harder not to think of that.

I figured, with my illogical, emotion-driven logic, that if I killed a killer, maybe, just maybe, that would make it okay. That I would be forgiven. That I could forgive myself. So maybe, going after the killer was what I needed.

I walked around camp for a few minutes, figuring that, since he was probably keeping tabs on all of us, he would probably find me eventually. However, during my wandering, I noticed a lone figure standing at the end of the dock. I grinned ferociously. This was it. My chance to redeem myself.

It was strange; even though I knew in my heart of hearts that this was ninety-five percent likely to be our challenge, I almost didn't want it to be. I wanted the chance to go after the psycho killer with the chainsaw and the hook. To fight. To kill the bad guy. To be okay.

It didn't occur to me that I might die. To be honest, I hadn't thought about it until after. And it didn't even occur to me that he was a renowned killer—an honest-to-badness murderer—until I was less than ten feet away from him. And I still wasn't scared. To be honest, I was nothing short of thrilled. This was the kind of fight I would remember my entire life. I would brag about this to my grandchildren. That thought pleased me, and for a split second, I thought of Courtney.

However, any worries about anything but the task at hand were quickly driven from my mind when the psycho killer turned around. "Aww, this is gonna be fun." I said, pounding a fist into the opposite hand. "Come and get it, goalie boy." He finally made a full rotation, started his chainsaw with a button, and walked forward. My grin deepened. This was it.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed a chair and threw it at him. He hacked right through it with his chainsaw. Which I hadn't anticipated. I frowned for a split second, then continued. The next object was a canoe, followed by a life jacket, a surfboard (that I was pretty sure was Geoff's), and finally, a fish that I had to reach into the water and pull out by hand. The last one stopped him, but most likely because a fish is hardly a weapon. Once it fell of his face, he looked at me, and I didn't need to see the expression behind it to know what it was saying: what the hell!?

"What? I ran out of stuff to throw." I explained calmly. So calmly! How calmly I could tell the murderer that I had no more weapons with which I could defend myself.

Then I realized. I was going to die. Before I could even see Courtney again.

I screamed, loudly, and jumped backwards as he attacked me with his saw. It landed right between my legs. I saw, in an instant, the opportunity that would save my life: his chainsaw was attached loosely to a very old hockey stick. I kicked the stick and broke it, and took the chainsaw for myself. Then I stood up and grinned.

Well. This would be it! He tried to come at me with his hook, but I used the chainsaw to cut that off too.

"Thought you could scare me?!" I taunted. "Ha! Now let's see who's behind the mask!" I said, holding the chainsaw out in front of me. He paused for a second, then lifted the mask.

Disappointment flooded through me like it never had before.

Because it wasn't a killer behind the mask. It was Chef. I would hardly be redeeming myself by killing Chef.

But I quickly covered up my disappointment, and took the mask from him. Then I gave him the chainsaw back. He led me through the forest and explained that the challenge was to survive a horror movie, and that I most likely won. I didn't focus at all. I was just thinking about how wonderful it would have been had he been the real killer...

* * *

When we reached the tent, I popped my head in and said, "Someone lose this?" Then I grinned and held out Chef's mask. The others cheered for me, but I felt nothing. No pride. No happiness.

Nothing. Nothing but shame and guilt.

Izzy clapped, then pointed to the screen. "Hey, coolio! Gwen's taking on the psycho all by herself!!" Then she laughed contentedly, obviously not realizing that there was a problem with this plan.

"Wait a minute!" I said, frozen. "If Chef's in here...then who's in the Lodge with Gwen?!"

"Holy Lola!" Owen shouted, his hands on his head. "It's the real escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook!"

We all ran as fast as we could back to the Main Lodge. Thankfully, it wasn't that far away. Honestly, it was pretty close to my tree in which I'd hid the garbage. We got to the Main Lodge in minutes, and threw the door open as fast as we could. Then we all filed in, and shouted, "Gwen! He's the **real** escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook!"

"What?" She asked calmly. Said escaped psycho killer growled and raised both arms, including hook and chainsaw. Then she screamed, and—so fast I didn't even notice—somehow quickly lifted one of her legs and kicked him five times in the face, knocking his mask off.

The killer just shrieked. "Oooow!" We all let awestruck expressions cross our faces. "Oh, that was totally uncalled for! Man, I am **so** out of here!" He held a hand up to Gwen and headed out. "I was treated **way** better in prison!"

Then he closed the cabin door behind him, and we all looked at Gwen as DJ fainted. Gwen looked pretty proud of herself and, jealous as I was, I gave her a high five. That was probably one of the coolest things I'd ever seen.

* * *

In the end, it was DJ who had to go. Because he was the only one not to confront a killer, he was pretty much the only choice for the producers. We all gave him a group hug good-bye. I would have been sad, but I knew I would see him again.

He'd always been a good friend to me. Of all the guys in the alliance, I trusted him the most. I would miss him. He was a good guy, if not a little paranoid.

We all stood on the dock and waved good-bye. He waved back to us with a small, sad smile. Eventually, everybody sort of filtered away. I stayed, alone. I had some thinking to do. Because it was now very, very apparent: without DJ, my guy's alliance was screwed. I figured now would be the perfect time to think about my next alliance. I thought it was a bit odd that I had a new plan after every challenge, but I was pretty certain that this time, I would have the perfect alliance to get the job done and go to the final two.

It was now just a matter of morals; was it better to win the right, hard, potentially disappointing way or the wrong, easy, sure way?


	32. Wawanakwa Gone Wild

**A/N:** Life, guys. Happens to all of us. Especially when you're a senior in high school.

Anyways, there aren't any swears in this chapter I don't think. No references to anything "bad." Overall, this is definitely one of the tamer chapters. It's also one of the more boring ones. Sorry guys. Next few get better, and then it's kaputt for ol' Duncy. It's actually about four or five more and then... REUNITED AND IT FEEEEEELS SO GOOOOOOD!

...-ahem-...

Also, sorry it took so long to come out, but like I said, life happens.

So without any further ado, chapter 32; Wawanakwa Gone Wild:

* * *

The morning after DJ was kicked off I woke up to a strange sound. Not whimpering, exactly, but close. I sat up in my bunk, rubbed my eyes and looked around. Without DJ, the cabin felt different. He had a certain presence; it was hard to describe. You always knew he was there, and it made you feel almost safer. The others seemed to have noticed it too, and then I was reminded of the whimpering sound. I looked at Owen, who was snoring, but still asleep. Then I looked at Geoff.

He was asleep, but he had a cold sweat on his face. He was twitching slightly, and his face was cringing. The first thought I had was that he was feeling sick. Then I realized that he was probably having a bad dream. I jumped down from my bunk and walked over to his, above Owen. I shook his shoulder, and he twitched heavily for another five seconds (was he having a seizure? I was suddenly nervous) before his eyes opened wide and he jolted upright, breathing heavily.

"You okay, man?" I asked concernedly.

He looked around him for a second, very obviously afraid of something. '_It must have been a really bad dream._' I thought subconsciously.

He caught his breath, then looked at me. "Yea, dude. Sorry..."

I nodded. "It's cool. What happened?"

He cringed. '_It must have been terrible._' "Uh... Just... Just a really bad dream." He rolled over and pulled his covers back up. "I don't want to talk about it."

I respected his privacy and jumped back up on my bunk. '_Do you think it might have anything to do with his friends?_' The inner voice suggested. '_The ones that died?_'

I frowned, but didn't interrupt, even though I heard, so light I could have possibly been imagining them, sob after sob after sob.

* * *

The next morning, Geoff looked fine, so I didn't say anything. He would be okay, or at the very least, he wouldn't try anything stupid. I hoped.

We all got ready at the same time and ended up walking to the Main Lodge together. Geoff approached me and said, "Hey, man, after breakfast, you and I need to talk."

That confused me. What did he need to talk about? Was it about what I'd seen last night? He should have known me better than to think I would tell anybody, and, really, who was there for me to tell here? The only person I talked to on the island that slightly resembled a friend was Gwen, and I wouldn't tell her something like that. "About what?" I asked.

"Uh... just... after breakfast, dude." He said. He looked nervous. Maybe he thought I had already told someone? Who knew?

"Alright, man."

Suddenly, there was a loud sound from behind us. I turned to see Izzy looking confused. We all walked back next to her, and Gwen asked, "Wasn't there just a three-hundred pound bag of joy talking to you?"

"I'm only two ninety-six!" Owen said. We all looked up to see him hanging upside down from what appeared to be a trap. "Someone set a trap."

Then, a large wooden cage from nowhere fell over the rest of us.

"Or two." Owen amended.

"Gooooood moooooorning camperrrrrrs!" Chris' loud voice rang from behind us. We turned to see him removing a beaver from his head. "Or should I say 'trappers.' Ready for today's challenge?" He asked, pulling a pocket knife from his pocket. The girls gasped; it looked like he was getting ready to stab the beaver. "Excellent! Then let's chat about it over chow, shall we!"

"He's coming back to un-trap us, right?" Owen asked. As if we knew. Almost as soon as he'd finished talking, Chris threw the knife and cut Owen loose. He fell on top of our cage, and the door opened, letting us all out. We walked towards the Main Lodge carefully, avoiding any more potential traps.

* * *

I got my food and sat down at the table closest to the windows. LeShawna sat at the other table and Gwen sat with her. Geoff sat next to Gwen, distractedly stirring his... well, to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what it was, but my best guess was paste.

Heather sat two seats down from me, and Owen sat across from her. Then Izzy, still angry with Owen, sat at the other table with Geoff and Gwen and LeShawna. We had all taken about half a bite (that stuff was harder to eat than steel) when Chris came in and started talking. "Campers. There are only seven of you left on Total Drama Island. After tonight's dramatic bonfire ceremony, only six of you will remain. We're nearing the end, people, so look alive!"

I wanted to cut in and say that it was difficult to look alive when you were about to die of starvation, but I refrained. He was right. There were only seven left. I didn't need to go and do anything that might compromise my position as one of the final two. I wondered vaguely who I would be up against. It was difficult to say. Where Heather was definitely one of the toughest competitors, Gwen was pretty intent on winning. LeShawna too. Izzy was crazy enough to last through just about anything, and Owen was... well, for as flabby as he is, he's pretty tough, too. The only person I couldn't see going to the final two was Geoff, and to be honest, I was pretty sure Geoff didn't see himself going to the final two either. I glanced quickly over at him to see him depressingly stirring his paste. I wondered what he was thinking about. I wondered if it had anything to do with his bad dream last night, or if it was Bridgette, or if it was what he had to talk about. Maybe it was a combination of the three. I couldn't be sure. But I felt bad for him, regardless. It was very evident something was wrong.

"Today's challenge involves making like our province's great rangers and game-wardens. You'll each have eight hours to trap an animal."

Before I could even think about it, I reached over, picked up Owen's arm by his wrist and said, "Got one!"

"A **wild** animal." Chris said, looking irritated by the interruption. Oh well. Geoff grinned. "Which you must bring back to the campfire. Unharmed." Then he shook his head and said, "Rangers and game-wardens often have to relocate animals for their own good. And the good of campers."

"For my good, I'm going to have to barbecue my animal. I'm starving to death!" Gwen said, watching Geoff and LeShawna try to break the paste apart and failing.

"Funny you should mention that, Gwen." Chris said matter-of-factly. "Reward for winning today's challenge is a meal of all of your favorite foods."

"I am **so** winning." Heather said. I rolled my eyes.

"So you're not gonna eat that?" Owen asked her, pointing to her paste. Heather rolled her eyes and pushed the bowl at him. He dug in, eating the paste with the gusto of a first grader. I chuckled.

"Well, campers, I'll leave you to your... meal." He said, stifling a laugh. "Meet me at the boathouse in one hour, and we'll talk about today's challenge. McLean, out!"

The cameras all shut off, the producers talked, and Chris left, presumably to eat something edible while us campers were left with something that was most likely paste.

'_The boathouse, huh?_' I thought idly, stirring my paste much the way Geoff had only moments ago. I hadn't been to the boathouse since... well, since the night I'd been there with Courtney. I smiled melancholically. That had probably been the best night of my life. I wondered how she was doing. I wondered if she missed me. I wondered if she knew how much I missed her. I wondered if she was hoping I got kicked off. I knew I was. Well, I wasn't **really** hoping to get kicked off. I would see her again regardless. But waiting was difficult. I wanted her more than I wanted air, and being without her was like suffocating.

Good thing I was always good at holding my breath.

* * *

After breakfast, I headed back to the cabin and waited for Geoff to show. I assumed he was in the shower, and was proven correct when he came back with his towel over his arm and his hair wet. "Alright, Duncan," He said, climbing up the steps. "Let me put my stuff away and let's have a talk."

I waited about two seconds for him to throw his stuff on his bed (he was a slob; he never actually put his things away), then he came back out and gestured for me to follow him. We walked down to the beach, and he sat on the dock with his legs hanging off the edge. I mimicked his position, and he said, "There's really two things I need to talk to you about. The first... is that I can't be in your alliance anymore."

I shrugged. "Okay."

He looked at me in alarm. "Okay?"

I nodded. "Yea. Okay. To be honest, I was expecting you to be much sneakier about it, sort of mutiny behind my back."

Geoff nodded. "I would have, but the other thing is that I need to ask you a favor."

"Okay, what?"

He took a deep breath and said, "I need you to..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "Never mind. Another time, maybe. Not today."

I shrugged. "Alright." I stood. "Whenever you need me, man, just come and talk. I'll be here."

"Yea." He said, looking back out at the water. "Thanks, dude."

* * *

About forty-five minutes later, we all found ourselves assembled in front of the boathouse. Geoff looked a bit depressed, but I could hardly notice. I was a bit distracted by the memory of my last visit to the boathouse, under completely different circumstances. I smiled distractedly before I felt eyes on me. I looked up to see Geoff staring at me slyly. He knew what I was thinking about. I grinned at him. Oh, the memories.

Then Chris walked up, waited for the cameras to start, held up a hat with slips of paper in it and said, "Everyone, choose an animal assignment!"

I walked up and picked a slip of paper. I looked at it and read 'raccoon.' I grinned. How easy. I might as well claim the dinner now! Then I heard Owen say, "Chipmunk."

'_Alright. That's not too bad. They're fast little critters, kinda hard to catch._' I thought, trying to keep myself psyched. That is, until LeShawna read "frog." Then, I sort of knew I was toast.

'Better than Heather's, though.' I thought in amusement after hearing her read the word "bear" rather angrily. "Are you **kidding** me?"

"It's the only animal left." Chris said, shrugging.

"**These** degenerates get cute little froggy and wee baby ducky, and I'm supposed to trap a **bear** with my bare hands?!"

"You **do** get sixty seconds in the boathouse to gather any equipment that might help," Chris said slowly.

"Unless there's an animal trainer and a zebra carcass in there, I don't think it will be adequate. This is ridiculous!" She stormed away angrily, arms folded, wedges stomping.

"I don't think I've mentioned the penalty yet," Chris carried on, watching Heather stalk off.

"I don't care!" Heather shouted back. "I'll take it!"

"Loser cleans the communal washroom," Chris told her.

That sure stopped her—and the rest of us for that matter. We all gasped. That was low, even for Chris. He must not have ever been in there; he wouldn't force that on his worst enemy.

"Sorry." Owen said, and chuckled, clutching his stomach. "I think I ate too much of that delicious paste." Then he farted, and the rest of us took a few steps to the other side.

"Alright, campers." Chris said, ignoring the rest of us. "You have just one minute in the boathouse to grab your critter-catching gear."

We all ran inside.

* * *

The inside of the boathouse was eerily similar to how I'd left it. There was even a small pile of dust still swept together from when I'd decided to sweep the floor to clear a space for me to sleep, and the broom was still thrown on the floor haphazardly, which led me to believe that Chris and Chef had never actually been in here, and were only assuming there was something we could use to catch our animals. I took a few extra seconds to reminisce before I started hunting. Being the only camper (besides Courtney, of course) to have ever been in here gave me a bit of an advantage, but once I started hunting, I realized there wasn't much of an advantage to it at all. There wasn't much I could use, though I did find a nice sledgehammer. However, Chris said that the animal had to be unharmed, and I was pretty certain there was no way I could use it without hurting the raccoon.

"You're going to trap a raccoon with a sledgehammer?" Gwen asked, fighting with Heather over a net. I put the sledgehammer down and picked up a chainsaw. I could use it to make a sound loud enough to scare a raccoon any way I wanted it to go. I grinned.

"Thanks for the tip!" I grinned.

"Ten seconds remaining!" Chris said, popping his head in. I strapped the chainsaw around my back, and watched as Izzy picked up three boxes and ran out laughing maniacally.

"Is that legal? Can she just—" I was interrupted by Gwen and Heather, still fighting over the net, and running into me, knocking me over.

I picked myself up and dusted myself off before I looked to my left and saw...

A bowl?

I reached for it and realized it was a moldy bowl full of something that looked suspiciously like paste and rice. I grinned. It was the gruel Courtney had brought for me that I'd put to the side. I had intended to use it as spider bait, but never really gotten the opportunity. Nor had I needed to. I smiled nostalgically, thinking about her again.

I had to win. I had to win for her. I needed the money. If I won, I could buy a car—or, better, a motorcycle—and I could drive down to see her whenever I wanted...

Yea. That'd be nice.

* * *

"Everybody ready?" Chris asked excitedly.

"Yes!"

"No!" Heather shouted.

"Game on!" Chris replied, throwing a fist in the air. Everyone but Heather and I ran towards the forest, ready to begin. As I passed Heather, I stopped. Even though the idea of allying with her made me nauseous, I had to get on her good side, just in case.

"You can borrow my chainsaw when I'm done." I offered.

"Great! The bear can use it to skin me alive after he's finished mauling me!" She said sarcastically. "Thanks!"

"Well, I did pick **something** up that might help you." I said, then reached into my back pocket and pulled out one of the deer antler headpieces from the Paintball Deer Hunter challenge. She raised an eyebrow.

"**Why** would you want to help me?" She asked suspiciously.

"Because if you team up with me, I'll take you to the final two." I said persuasively. Her eyebrow shot higher, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. If I wanted to be in an alliance with her so badly, why didn't I accept the offer she made only a few days ago? I would have an answer for that if she asked, but I wasn't going to just offer it to her.

"Not interested." She said, obviously suspicious of my motives.

I shrugged. She'd accept sooner or later. "Suit yourself."

"I always do." She said, holding a spiky hook over her shoulder.

I waited until she was out of hearing distance, then said to the camera, "She'll be back. Just wait." After reassuring that my chainsaw was safely attached to my back, I put the antlers back in my pocket and walked towards the forest.

* * *

I spent about ten minutes in the forest before I finally found a raccoon digging for something behind some rocks. I approached quietly, trying not to startle it.

"Hey, buddy. Heeeey, little pal!" It turned around to look at me. "Come on, let's go for a walk." Suddenly, I hear a very loud chittering sound behind me. I turned, and came face to face with at least fifty of the little rodents. My eyes widened. Last time I checked, raccoons didn't mass attack... but then they started running towards me all at once.

I made a decision in a split second. I would run towards camp until at least one of them ran into the cage. It couldn't fail!

* * *

I'd been running for at least twenty minutes, and I was getting kind of tired. The little beasts were smart; every time I tried to turn back and run towards camp, they cut me off and forced me to keep running in the opposite direction. I think it was the chainsaw; weren't raccoons fascinated by things that shine?

As I was running, I looked behind me and saw that they were catching up. I tried to speed up, but they just kept running towards me.

Eventually, I realized by my surroundings that I'd made enough turns to double back, and now I was heading towards camp. Suddenly, out of nowhere, one of them jumped and landed on my head. The little thing's claws dug into my forehead, and I was certain I would have tiny, claw sized lacerations there later, but for now, all I had to worry about was getting back to camp with the thing intact.

I ran as fast as I could, holding the little raccoon onto my head for dear life. The others were starting to fall back, so I could slow down and catch my breath. I kept running towards camp, slower. I had a good feeling about this. I'd had it pretty easy; maybe I'd won!

I ran back towards camp shouting, "OPEN THE CAGE!" I removed the raccoon and dropped it in, worried it might try to cling onto my hands.

"Ha! What'd'you think of that!" I shouted at Heather, grinning smugly, shutting the cage door.

"Gwen won already," She said slowly, arms folded, an eyebrow raised. My smug expression fell instantly.

"Hey, Host-man! Bring on the chow!" Gwen said, laughing, her arms raised in triumph.

"Don't forget!" Chris shouted almost as if in response. "Last camper to catch their critter cleans the washroom!"

"Well, I've got nothing better to do. I could help you bag a bear... deer." I said teasingly, pulling the antlers from my back pocket.

She looked irritated for a second, then glared at the ground. "Fine. Thanks."

* * *

We found ourselves about half a kilometer south of the bear's cave only a few minutes later. I had in my hands the antlers and a deer tail. "Here," I offered, holding the antlers and tail out to her.

"No!" She said, holding up an arm. "No, see, the thing that's supposed to happen is I agree to be in an alliance with you, and you help ** me** catch the bear. What doesn't happen is I wear a reindeer costume!"

"How fast can you run?" I asked her, trying to coerce her into being the deer.

"Also, you don't ask me a gazillion stupid questions." She said, turning her back and crossing her arms.

"You put these on, the bear thinks you're a deer. You run away and lead him toward the campground." I told her.

"How fast can **you** run?" She retorted.

"I bet you're faster." I lied. She turned her head back. "What I will do is follow, guide the bear into the cage. I bet most of the other morons got their animals back to camp." I felt a little bad for saying that, but I needed her alliance, and for our alliance to work, I needed her to catch her stupid bear. "We don't have a lot of time."

She gasped, so I knew I got through to her. She turned back around and snatched the costume out of my hands. "Fine. But if that bear gets within so much as a football field of me, you're history." She threatened. I raised my hands defensively and watched in amusement as she put on the silly costume.

* * *

We were outside the bear's cave in about ten minutes. She had the stupid antler's on, along with the little tail, and was calling into the cave. A bear must have heard her, and it came stumbling out of the cave slowly. Then it saw Heather, who was running away, and began to chase after her. I waited about ten seconds, then started chasing after the bear.

Heather was in my sight just barely, and eventually, I completely lost track of her. Fortunately, I came across Izzy, and asked, "Have you seen Heather?"

"Who?"

"About ye tall, long dark hair, hot, wearing deer antlers." I described. Then, as if answering my call, Heather arose from a bush to my right looking kind of dopey. She fell forward and I immediately saw a dart sticking out of her butt.

Izzy looked apprehensive. "Whoops..."

I stared at the dart for about three more seconds, then I just burst out laughing. It was so hilarious, there aren't words to describe it. It was like every funny movie plus every bad scary movie plus Katt Williams all rolled into one split second of comedic gold. I was still laughing about it later, while in the confessional, cleaning out under my fingernails after she made me wash the bathrooms for her.

It was amazing.

Still trying to suppress laughter at least five minutes later, I choked out, "Here, help me with her," to Izzy. We dragged Heather back to camp where Chef picked her up and carried her into the infirmary tent.

* * *

I was laughing all through dinner, all through my free time, and was still chuckling about it during the Bonfire Ceremony.

I reached over to whisper to her, "Hey, you sure you don't want to get stitches over your, uh..." I broke off, snickering, "butt dart wound?"

"Not until psycho hose beast goes down." She muttered back through her teeth as Chris started the ceremony.

"You've all cast your votes and made your decision." He started soberly. "When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow." He said, gesturing, as always, to the plate of marshmallows to his right. "The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, to catch the Boat of Losers and leave. That means you're out of the contest. And you can't come back. Ever." He looked at all of us seriously, then said, "The first marshmallow goes to... Geoff. Owen. LeShawna. Duncan. Heather. One marshmallow... two players. Izzy? Gwen? One of you has spent your last night on Total Drama Island."

"Just give it to Gwen already!" Heather muttered, her jaw clamped shut.

"Eh..." Chris muttered, then threw the marshmallow to Gwen.

"Ah, we've all gotta go sometime, right?" Izzy asked, taking her loss in stride.

"You could make out with me first?" Owen offered. "If that would cushion the blow."

"Good night, everybody! Thanks for coming out!" She shouted, ignoring Owen, then from her back pocket withdrew something, threw it on the ground, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. We all gasped.

Then, as if to add insult to her injury, Chris bent over her and said, "Being the loser, you realize you still have some unfinished business."

"Duncan?" She looked at me, her head tipped to the side, drool practically spilling out of her mouth. "I require your services."

I looked at her for a split second, then started laughing. Her eyes looked panicked. "Yea, fine, whatever." It was probably better that I did it anyways. Knowing her, she would use our toothbrushes, and I did** not** want that. I'd rather put up with a few stinky toilets over everybody having stinky breath for the rest of our stay here. Besides, I'm pretty good at cleaning; it was a punishment in Juvie, and I had had a pretty bad knack for making trouble in Juvie.

* * *

The bathrooms were completely atrocious. Seriously nasty. I don't think I've ever seen a toilet that rank. But it didn't take me long, and I was finished before ten. Of course, I complained to Heather about it the whole time—don't think I let her get off that easy. I didn't mention it to her, but I **did** accidentally drop her toothbrush into a toilet, albeit one I'd just cleaned. Still, toilet water is toilet water, and toilet water is gross.

But cleaning the washrooms gave me some time to think. There were six of us left. If I played my cards right, that would mean, since Geoff was one of the six, I would at least make it into the final four—Owen was good, but there was no way he was going to beat me.

I was anxious, but mostly excited to see where the contest would take me. With all of my skill, all my patience and just a little luck, it would take me somewhere a hundred grand richer.


	33. Trial By TriArmed Triathlon

**A/N:** So, my laptop died. Again. Which I hope explains more than enough why this chapter took so long. I won't write if people are around, so I've had to wait until I could get alone time to finish this. But if that doesn't explain enough, then also because I'm graduating in...eleven days, I've had exams up to here and final projects that needed working on. So get over it. It's here now. :D

Countdown to reunion: Three chapters to go!

So, here: chapter thirty-three.

* * *

I woke up earlier than usual, and it was suddenly apparent why. Geoff was pacing, mumbling a few things to himself here and there. I checked my watch; it was roughly four AM. I tried to ignore him and go back to sleep, but I couldn't. It's not that he was loud; I was just distracted by the thought that I still didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd been acting strange for the past five days or so, but he wouldn't talk about it to anybody. Even Heather had commented on his strange behavior (although in a nonchalant, "I couldn't care less" kind of way).

So when I realized I wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon, I decided to sit up and finally get an answer out of Geoff, whether he wanted to or not.

"Geoff," I said quietly, not wanting to wake Owen up. He jumped and turned around, not expecting me to be awake and sitting up. "Dude, you gotta start talking, man. What's been up with you? It's four AM. Why are you pacing?"

He looked around the cabin as if expecting somebody else to be there (at four AM? Fat chance) before he sighed. "Fine," he muttered, then gestured to follow him. I jumped down from my bunk and threw my Chucks on, not bothering to tie the laces. I followed him out of the cabin, off the porch and towards the bonfire pit. He threw some wood on it and I lit a few sticks and before we knew it we had a small bonfire.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the fire, and he said, "You remember what I told you a while back, about my two friends?" He asked. I nodded, having figured that was what this was all about. "Well, two days before they died, I'd had a nightmare that they died. And now, every year, a couple days before the anniversary of their death, I have the nightmare again. Every year. I don't know if it's because it's on my mind then, or because it's them trying to remind me of it from wherever they are, I don't know. But I have it every year."

I nodded, figuring it out. "You're just upset because you had the dream again?" I asked.

He shook his head slowly. "Not... exactly. I did have the dream again, but it was different this time." I could tell by the tone of his voice we were finally getting to the part that had been upsetting him. "Instead of them... it was Bridgette."

'_Oh. Well, that would explain it,_' I thought. Now, I was concerned. Not because I would particularly miss Bridgette should she be killed in a hailstorm, but because I knew Geoff would, and, despite the fact that I always said I didn't have friends, I considered him my closest friend here.

"But I don't want to talk about that too much," he said. "Just know that that's why I've been acting weird."

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about, then?" I asked, wondering why he brought me all the way out here just to say that. There had to have been something else. He wouldn't have bothered with a fire if that was all he needed to say.

"Yea, actually, there is," he admitted, and he paused again. I was about to ask him what else there was when he said, "I can't take it here, Duncan. I really can't."

"Yea, man, I hear you," I agreed, wondering what he was getting at.

"No, I mean, I really can't take it. I want to leave. I don't want to be here anymore. I couldn't care less about the prize money anymore. I need to get out of here. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle this. My therapist even told me so. He said I wasn't ready to be so far from home around the anniversary, but... I couldn't let the opportunity pass." He sighed. "You remember how there was a favor I wanted to ask you a couple days ago?"

"Yea..." I trailed off, predicting what he was about to say.

"I want you to vote me off," he finally said. Then he amended, "I want you to get everybody else to vote me off, or at least enough people to get me sent home or wherever it is we go after this." He frowned. "I need to get off this island, and I need..." He bit his lip. "I need to see Bridgette. These dreams are really freaking me out. I can't take it anymore. I have to make sure she's okay."

I wasn't surprised, because I'd had a vague feeling his favor would have been something like this. Mostly, I felt kind of bad for him. I hadn't known it was so bad for him. I knew he was traumatized because of the hail thing, but I didn't know it was that... intense. And for him to be dreaming about it, and then to be dreaming about Bridgette the same way... I couldn't understand it, but I could sure pity the hell out of him for it. "Yea, man," I told him. "I can do that."

Geoff looked at the fire, now. "Thanks, dude. Really."

I nodded. Neither of us had anything else to say. I sat with Geoff a little while longer before yawning. It was a challenge day, so I decided to go back to bed.

* * *

I wasn't worried about Geoff's favor. In order to get him kicked off, I would only need two other people to vote for him. I would vote for him and he would vote for himself. There being six of us, only two people needed to vote him off for us to have the majority. On my short walk back to the cabin, I tried to think of who.

Obviously, Heather. Whether or not our make-shift alliance would last from the previous challenge was something I was unsure of, but I knew I would be able to persuade her into voting him off. That left LeShawna, Gwen or Owen. LeShawna had been acting weird lately, saying she knew I was a nice guy, so I wasn't sure about her, but Gwen had serious issues with Geoff. I don't know what it was about him that creased her so bad, but she had some strong hate for him. I figured she would be my most likely candidate. Until, of course, they ended up being partners for the challenge. My theory is that, if you spend enough one-on-one time with Geoff, you kind of get over hating him. So she was out.

While Chris explained the rest of the challenge to us, I had to decide; between LeShawna and Owen, who was most likely to vote with me?

* * *

LeShawna and I eyed our handcuffs speculatively. Neither of us were altogether thrilled about being partners with each other, although I don't know who LeShawna would have preferred; definitely not Heather and probably not Geoff. She and Owen had no issues, but she and Gwen were pretty tight.

She gave me a tentative smile, but I ignored her. She was constantly trying to tell me to act more "myself" and to stop being such a jerk to everybody. I knew what she was talking about (Courtney must have blabbed about the bunny thing), but I pretended not to. There were millions of people out there who knew me as a tough guy and I did **not** want that changing any time soon. Seeing my uninterested stare, she glared at me, and I glared back.

"First of our three challenges," Chris began. "Competitive chow-down."

"Oh, come on!" Owen said, chuckling. "This is like a dream I had once!"

"The donut-copter dream?" Heather asked scathingly. They were partners, and I didn't know who to feel sorry for, although Owen **did** have the upper hand here. If anybody could eat competitively, it was probably Owen.

"You've had it too?" He asked excitedly. She rolled her eyes.

"Each team," Chris carried on, as ever ignoring our side chatter. "Will choose a feeder and an eater. Eaters must put their hands behind them, making it more difficult for the feeders. One last thing:** this** is the wimp key," he explained, holding up a key with a skeleton at the end of the handle. "A skeleton key that will open any handcuff. You will be offered the wimp key at each challenge to unshackle yourself from your partner. Buuuut if you choose to accept it, you'll both be eliminated."

"Hello! How do we win this thing?" Gwen asked. Too bad she didn't know it didn't matter. She wasn't going home. I had Heather in the bag, and I knew the way to Owen's vote: bribe him with food.

"Chef's getting platters for each team. Title goes to the team finishes their platter of delicacies fastest."

"**I'll** do the chowing down," I told LeShawna. She's never seen it, but I could eat a storm when I felt like it.

"I don't **think** so, scrawny, chicken-leg boy!" She said, eyeing me up.

"Arm wrestle for it, then!" I said, and we quickly sat down and began to arm wrestle. I was surprised; she was pretty strong. Strong enough for me to have to throw my other arm in. It was cheating, but I won, and when she called me out on it, I just said, "The first rule of arm wrestling is that there are no rules."

She grumbled in frustration, but conceded defeat. Then we looked at the food and my stomach sunk. She got a huge grin on her face-until I pulled her forward by putting my arms behind my back.

"Ready? Aaaaand..." Chris looked at his watch. "Begin!"

Maybe I deserved it. Maybe LeShawna was just getting back at me for being such a jerk earlier, or maybe I'd just racked up enough bad karma, but LeShawna put one spoonful of food in and I nearly vomited. It must have been rotten or something, because it tasted awful. And that's not all. Barely one spoonful of food was in my mouth before she had piled another one and shoved that one in my face. My mouth was full before I had time to swallow any of it.

"C-could we go a little slower?" I asked, hardly able to get the words out because there was so much food in my mouth. Not that she paid that any mind; while my mouth was open and I was trying to talk she just shoved another two spoonfuls in there. I moved some food around in my mouth in order to say, "Slow down!"

She paid me no mind, and continued to shovel food in before Chris said, "Time!" LeShawna looked around and frowned. I swallowed a little bit of the food and turned to see that Owen's tray was empty. Surprise, surprise. I swallowed the rest of the food in my mouth and took a deep breath.

"Thanks for nearly suffocating me, LeShawna," I said sarcastically.

"Thanks for cheating at arm wrestling, Duncan," she countered.

"I won't lie; I think cheating at a trivial game is a bit less severe than murder," I growled.

She rolled her eyes and glared at me, so I glared back.

"The winners are Heather and Owen!" Chris declared loudly.

They cheered. "Alright, Owen! Way to go!" Heather told him. "You are one champion eater! What a team!" She said, then hugged him. I raised an eyebrow. She must have been pretty grateful to actually hug him, or maybe she was normal in that regard and actually **liked** hugs. I didn't know. Nor did I care. This would be the last round they won today.

"Uh... thanks?" Owen said, looking uncomfortable.

"What a team!" Heather said again, maybe to reiterate her gratitude. Just then, Owen's stomach rumbled.

"Speaking of teamwork, how are you with toilet paper?" Owen asked in a strained voice. Heather's face went blank about half a second before Owen took off, running towards the bathrooms, farting up a storm in his wake. The rest of us laughed at Heather's expense; there's that karma again.

* * *

Later, on our walk to the next challenge site, LeShawna came at me again. "So, Duncan?"

"What?"

"Why **are **you so mean all the time?" She asked offhandedly, trying to be civil. "I mean, what's that accomplish? What's the point?"

I shrugged. "Just my nature, I guess."

She scoffed. "Yea, right. Whatever." But I could tell the conversation wasn't over.

By then, we were at the beach and she fell silent. Chris held up the wimp key and said, "Last chance for the tempting wimp key before part twoooo!" He said, jingling it around.

LeShawna and I faced each other threateningly. "**Dare** you!" I said, holding up a fist. She scowled at me. We stood there, eye to eye, at odds with each other, when Chris said, "On the beach, you will find three canoes. One for each team. Your challenge is to paddle your canoe while wearing handcuffs all the way to Boney island. Once there, you will open a package that is waiting for you. **Go**!" He then shouted, and we all ran towards the beach.

LeShawna and I were the first ones there, so we took the first canoe. She was about to take the steering position in the front, but I pulled her back and said, "Nuh-uh. **I'm** riding in front, sweetheart, no arguments."

"Don't you pull that tough guy stuff with me, sweetheart. Why don't you just let little LeShawna sit in the front so I can steer."

I scoffed. "Little? Are you kidding me? You're..." I trailed off, pretending to find the words when really, I was mentally slapping myself for that. Not for all the negative karma that little slip surely just earned me but because LeShawna was probably going to really slap me. I remember being ten and my brother warned me about commenting on a girl's weight.

'_Unless you want to get a swift kick to the crotch, you **never, ever, ever** comment on a girl's weight. **EVER**. Because you will get kicked, **hard**,_' he'd threatened.

"Ooooh, no, no, no, no, no. You do **not** want to finish that sentence," she warned. I held my arms up in surrender, and she glared. I glared back. She climbed in the front. I said nothing.

With a little effort, I pushed the boat into the water, and before we knew it, we were in the water. I jumped in the back of the canoe before my shoes could get too wet, and grabbed a paddle. We forced the boat forward in silence before I saw somebody pretty far in front of us. "Come **on**, paddle! I'm doing all the work here, and I know my half of the canoe isn't the heavier half."

"Oh! You're about to get my paddle somewhere you don't want it to be!" She threatened, glaring back at me.

"Well, I'm about to get up in your face, and if I do, you are not gonna like it!" I threatened back emptily. I didn't really mean to threaten her. Rules of life; if someone threatens you, your best bet is to stand your ground and threaten back. The possibility that your adversary loses is always open in their mind, and they want to avoid that at any costs.

But LeShawna was unimpressed. "Oh yea?" She asked casually. "I don't think you will. I think you talk a big game but underneath, you're nothing but a big creampuff."

"Says who?" I asked, wondering where the hell she heard that from.

"I've got eyes," she said calmly. "You've got it bad for Courtney. And don't you even try to deny it."

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn't heard anybody actually say Courtney's name in a while, and the thought of her, even of her far away from here, made me happy. But I couldn't let her know that, not if I intended to win this argument. "Oh, that's all you got? Big deal, she's hot." I really hoped, wherever she was, she never heard me downplay our relationship like that, because I'm not sure I would be able to handle her being mad at me for something as trivial as me trying to win an argument.

"She told me about Bunny," LeShawna said, and my face went blank. Wasn't she supposed to have kept that a secret?

I sighed. "Aw, man."

"You couldn't let DJ think his little fluffy bunny abandoned him," she pointed out.

I sighed again. "Okay, fine. My dog Petey ran away on me when I was six, and I didn't want DJ to have to go through the same thing, okay?"

"I **knew** it. I **knew** underneath all that crusty shell, there was a big heart," she said, smiling.

"Yea, well, just... don't go spreading it around, okay?" I asked.

"You gonna paddle this thing in?" She asked, changing the subject. I started to paddle. "Secret's safe with me."

* * *

We arrived at the island last, not that that prevented us from hearing everything Chris had to say. Someone really needed to take that guy's megaphone away from him. "Welcome to the second part of the second challenge. Back in episode eight, your teammate Beth stole the Boney Island tiki doll."

Somebody must have said something along the lines of 'she returned that' because Chris responded, "She lied. She broke it up and flushed it down the septic tank."

"Ewww," LeShawna and I said in unison.

"I know," Chris said. The others must have had our same reaction. By this point, we had reached the island and were starting to clamber out of the canoe. "The pieces in those packs need to be returned to the Cave of Treacherous Terror, and you'll want to do it double quick, because the longer you have the doll, the worse your luck. Oh yea!" He added. "One of you has to piggy-back the other. Enjoy!" He said, flying away.

As LeShawna and I reached the shore, I said, "Well, a guy's got his limits, and mine's about three-hundred-" I wasn't able to finish that sentence before LeShawna tackled me to the ground and started hitting me, **hard**. If I thought she'd been good at arm wrestling, she was even better at punching.

By the time she'd hit me to her hearts content, I must have had several large bruises all over the place. She had thankfully avoided hitting me where I would have regretted saying anything to her, ever, though she had come close several times. Standing was painful, and she looked a little apologetic.

"Sorry," she said, helping me up. Then she turned and picked up our pack. Inside was a rotten banana, a moldy sandwich, a map, a compass and the third of the tiki doll. She and I exchanged a glance and ditched the pack plus sandwich and banana. I took the map and compass and put the tiki doll in my pocket. Then she turned and, without a word, I climbed on her back.

* * *

It was a little embarrassing to have to ride on her back (I was the only guy being carried), but I got over it. My limit **was** three-hundred pounds, actually, but I could only hold it for a few seconds, and it was far more likely LeShawna could carry me for a greater distance than I could carry her. Not that she was actually three hundred pounds or anything, but because I didn't have that much endurance. I could run to beat the best of them, but I'd never been that into weight-lifting. I didn't want to be burly and buff. Those guys kinda freaked me out.

I led her to the cave and she jogged as fast as she could, which, realistically, wasn't that fast. I'm not fat or anything; she just wasn't that strong.

When we got to the cave, I ditched the map and compass. We saw Heather and Owen ahead of us, but they didn't throw their piece in; a giant spider landed itself on Owen's face, and he ran off before Heather could throw it. "Ha! We're in! Just a few more steps!" I told LeShawna, and she ran towards the cave some more. But just as we were about to throw away our piece, three or four giant wooly beavers walked towards the entrance. "Ha! You can take 'em, LeShawna!"

She turned and ran anyways. "You crazy back there? Ain't nobody that tough!" She shouted, running away from the cave. They chased after us for a little while, but eventually got sick of it.

I jumped down from LeShawna's back at long last. "You should have let me down a while ago. We could have ran faster."

She shrugged, and stretched. "Well, that wasn't the first thing on my mind, and I'm sure you understand why." We chuckled a little and paddled back to camp. We didn't get into a fight this time; I just let her take the front, and she paddled as hard as she could. I gave her a little leniency, though, since she'd just carted me through and island and back.

* * *

We were the second group back, followed shortly by Geoff and Gwen who, from what we understood, had just won the last challenge. Chris led us to a clearing just beyond our cabins, where he had set up several tables with a cloth over it. The cloth bumped up in awkward angles, and there was a giant pole under all our tables, so clearly, we were building something. When Geoff and Gwen were set at their tables, Chris began.

"And that's a point for the Gwen and Geoff dream team." They cheered. "So. An awesome day, huh? Moldy food-fights, carnivorous beavers. But it's time for someone to win this thing. Point each for everyone but LeShawna and Duncan, who can still pull a stopper. Today's final challenge..." he pulled the cloth from Heather and Owen's table, and Owen shouted. The rest of us pulled the cloths off our tables too.

"Relax! It's just Eva. Ew. Two Evas. That **is** upsetting," Heather said, and I smothered a laugh.

"The Totem Pole of Shame and Humiliation," Chris said, smiling. "Your task? Assemble the heads in the order in which your comrades were voted out. Unless... you want... the wimp key!" Seeing nobody step forward, he shouted, "Time for heads to roll!" Then he blew his whistle, and we began.

"Okay, do you know the order people were voted off on your team?" I asked quickly. She nodded. "Okay, good. I remember for my team." I looked at the heads, then at the pole. "So, how are we gonna do this?"

She picked up a head. "Okay. These things snap on the back. So we'll go backwards. But let's make a list first."

So, we set about making a list. "My team was the first two votes, and got rid of Ezekiel first, then Eva," I told her.

"Right. Then Noah, because he wouldn't play dodge ball, and then Justin."

"Then the tan Wonder Twin," I said. "I can never remember their names.

"The tan one was Katie. The paler one was Sadie," LeShawna pointed out.

"Okay, then. Katie was next, because they both got lost in the woods, and your team won because they came back after us." She wrote down Katie's name on our makeshift list (in eyeliner on the table). "What challenge was next?"

"The phobia one. Your team lost, because Courtney wouldn't jump into the jelly."

"Right, right. Tyler lost that one," I said, picking up the Courtney head. It was a good likeness of her; they even remembered to carve her few freckles on each side. I turned it around and took out my knife, and started carving absentmindedly into the head. "After that was the one where we first went to Boney Island."

"Right, and Izzy was... well, Izzy. So we voted her off," LeShawna said, writing Izzy's name down. Around us, I could hear the other two teams at odds over who was next.

"Then the paintball challenge, and Cody got totally jacked up, so you guys voted him out," I said, noticing absentmindedly that I was carving our initials.

"The cooking challenge was after that, and Heather had Beth voted off because of the tiki doll," LeShawna said, scribbling furiously. "Then the trust one and the other twin got voted off."

"Yea, that was Courtney's doing." I chuckled. "That one was Sadie, and she clobbered Courtney in the head with a bunch of crab apples." I frowned. LeShawna looked understanding.

"Still kinda irritates, you, huh?" She asked softly.

I ignored her and said, "Next was the basic training challenge, and Courtney was off for that one." Even though I'd already gotten over it, my stomach still clenched in anger. I **knew** she shouldn't have gotten voted off. I knew for a fact that Geoff, DJ and I voted for Harold, and I assume she did too. Which left only Bridgette, but one vote wasn't enough. I frowned at the head and carved harder.

"And after that was Harold," LeShawna said, noticing my distress.

I looked at her. "So, you and Harold...?" I asked, grinning now.

She shook her head. "Don't look at me like that, it wasn't like that. He was writing me poetry, and it was so sweet. I kind of got caught up in the moment. I don't really like him that way," she explained. But she looked at the Harold carving fondly, so I smirked.

"Riiiight," I said, and she stuck her tongue out at me. "So, next was..."

And so it went on until we'd finished the list. LeShawna started putting the heads on the pole while I finished carving into Courtney's head. Just as I had put it back on the table and was about to start helping LeShawna, I heard Chris say, "What's this?" Then he took the Courtney head and looked at the back.

"Don't!" I shouted quickly, already too late.

He laughed, and I felt myself ready to punch him. "It's not funny, man." I said angrily.

"Most guys kiss girls they like," he said, grinning at me. "Dude carves her head!" He said, then laughed again. "Mr. Tough ain't so tough!" I was about two seconds away from punching him when a Sadie head came flying out of nowhere and beaned Chris in the head, sending him to the ground. I looked at LeShawna in surprise.

She just looked at me in understanding. "Who said we gotta be tough all the time, huh?" Then she smiled at me, and I grinned back.

We finished the totem pole with plenty of time to spare. A paramedic was checking out Chris' head, and when it was apparent that he didn't have a concussion, he stood and shouted, "Weeee haaaaave a WIENERRRR! LeDunca... and Shewananan take it! That means anybody can get voted off tonight!" He finished, then fell again. LeShawna and I grinned at each other. I felt like we finally understood each other. She was a tough girl who probably had to work hard to get by, and I respected that about her. Maybe she and I could be friends. Maybe.

* * *

Once Chris came to again, he gave us the wimp key, and we all unlocked ourselves from our partners. The only people who seemed to really hated each other at the end of this was Owen and Heather, although that wasn't surprising. If I had to spend the whole day locked up to Heather, I probably would have chewed my arm off. It was a testament to Owen's patience that he managed to make it through the whole challenge without killing her the way any of the rest of us might have.

But now that the challenge was over, I had a favor to fulfill. Over dinner, I sat with Heather, and we chatted nonchalantly for a while. She complained about Owen, and I laughed at her comments even thought they just made me want to hit her. We left together, and on our way, I asked, "So, who are you voting for?"

She was quick to answer. "Owen. That guy seriously disgusts me, and he deserves it for everything that happened today."

I nodded. "I'm voting for Geoff," I said.

"You **are**?" She looked surprised. "I'm shocked. I thought you two were friends."

"We are. But he's way too popular for his own good. If it comes down to it, the people who were voted off would pick him first over any of the rest of us. Better to get him off now while we have the chance than let it go and have him win because of a stupid popularity contest."

She thought that over. "You raise a very good point, Duncan." She chuckled, "Thanks." Then she headed over to the confessional, and I grinned.

Now all that was left was Owen.

* * *

I snuck into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I had to be quick, in case Chef or Chris came in and saw me. I looked around and found a plate of cupcakes that must have only just been cooked, because they were still warm. I took one and frosted it quickly with a can of frosting that was sitting out. I ran back to our cabin, and saw Owen sitting there.

"Hey, Owen, what's up?" I asked, putting the cupcake on my bunk, then jumping up.

"Nothing. What's that cupcake for?" He asked, noticing how I ignored it.

I shrugged. "I brought it in case I wanted it. But I'm still full from dinner, so I think I'll save it for later." I yawned. "I'm so tired, though. Some challenge, huh?"

He nodded, glancing from my face to the cupcake. "Yea... huh."

I looked at his face in surprise. "Did you want it?" I asked him, pretending to be shocked.

I could practically hear his mouth water. "Well, if you don't, I'll take it."

I shrugged. "Fine." I tossed it to him, and he said thanks and practically inhaled it. I turned to face the ceiling. "So, who're you gonna vote for?" I asked him casually.

He swallowed his mouthful and said, "Probably Heather. She is so **mean**!" He shouted. "I can't stand her."

I nodded. "I hear you, man, I hear you. But... what if this is our last vote?"

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if we don't vote again after this? What if, after this, it's up to the voted off people, or Chris and Chef?"

He continued to look confused. "I don't follow."

I sighed, and sat up, crossing my legs. "What if, after this, it comes down to a popularity contest? That's what most reality shows do, right? They let the ex-cast mates vote, or the host."

He looked concerned. "I've never thought about that."

I nodded. "Exactly. And we all know who would win if it came down to that." He looked at me, puzzled again, and I said, "Geoff."

He frowned. "Yea, but... Geoff is such a cool guy. And he's so nice, and..."

"Which is exactly why we have to vote him off now before it's too late!" I said dramatically. Owen looked sad.

"Yea. You're right." He sighed heavily. "Right. Well, then, I'm going to go cast my vote. You **sure** is has to be Geoff?"

I nodded. "Positive." Then my expression softened. "I'm sad about it, too. Geoff and me are buddies. But he's gotta go before he wins by default."

Owen nodded. "Right." He sighed. "I'll be back."

He was no sooner out the door than Geoff came back in. "What's with Owen, man? He practically burst out into tears when he saw me," he asked.

I grinned. "Just doing your favor, man."

Geoff smiled at me half-heartedly. "Thanks, bro."

"No problem. So, I assume you voted for yourself. I voted for you. I just talked Owen into voting for you, and Heather was a piece of cake to convince." I held out my hand for a high-five. "You're going home, man. How does it feel?"

He thought for a second, then said, "A lot less painful than it would have if I'd been voted off before I wanted to go home."

I nodded. "I bet." Then I grinned. "Just make sure you look surprised when you're in the final two, okay? I don't need to be eliminated by default for this."

He laughed. "Sure, sure."

* * *

Later, at the Bonfire Ceremony, Chris stood before us as usual, seemingly back to normal. "You've all cast your votes and made your decision. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the Dock of Shame to catch the Boat of Losers. That means... you are out of the contest. And you can't come back. Ever." Then he grinned at all of us slyly, and said, "The first marshmallow goes to... LeShawna." He threw a marshmallow at her. "Next, Duncan." He threw me mine, and said, "Four campers are left, but only three marshmallows. The next marshmallow goes to... Heather. Owen." He tossed one to both of them, and Owen caught his in his mouth.

I saw Gwen and Geoff stiffen, so I assumed Geoff looked surprised. "Yup," Chris said. "That's one surefire way to wipe a smile off a camper's face. Show them a plate with exactly one marshmallow on it. I'm left with just one marshmallow for the night. And either Gwen or Geoff is about to go home."

"It's cool," Gwen said, standing up. I raised an eyebrow. "I had a good time."

"Whoa!" Chris said, running forward. "What are you doing? You're wrecking it!" Chris said, and Gwen sat back down miserably. "The last marshmallow of the night goes to… Gwen. Geoff. It's time for you to go, bro."

"What?" Gwen asked in shock. "Are you guys all crazy? Geoff is the nicest guy in the world!"

"Yea," I pointed out. "Bingo, sister."

"As if Heather could defeat nice," Owen agreed.

Heather backed us up, too. "The power of nice is huge. And we're not worried about you in that department, Gwen."

Geoff stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "No sweat, Gwen. Chao, dudes!" He said, then walked to the Dock of Shame happily. I felt kind of glad for him. He was obviously much less stressed now that he didn't have to deal with worrying about Bridgette, and it's not like he was sad to go home.

Then Gwen looked shocked for a second, and ran after him shouting, "Wait! I have something for you!"

The rest of us stood and left. Now, I had nothing left but to play to my full strength. I would win. No arguments.


	34. Camp Castaways

**A/N:** Hi, readers! .sun here with yet another thrilling installment of Total Duncan Island about half an hour before the premiere of episode three of Total Drama World Tour. I'm excited. Are you? :D

Anyways, I want to keep this quick. The chapter refers to what Duncan did to get himself in Juvie. It refers to it twice. I summed it up in this chapter as best I could, but if you want more details on what happened, I've got a one-shot entitled "Fire" that explains everything. You don't have to read it, but personally, I think it's better than just about any TDI chapter I've ever written (except for one. ;D)

You might be wondering why this went from _Trial_ to _Castaways_ without going through _Haut Campture_. There's a reason for that: the campers aren't even **in** _Campture_. So, instead of do a whole chapter where nothing happens, I skipped it. Sorry to anybody who was looking forward to that, but I'll definitely be going back over it when I finish Playa Des Courtney (which is temporarily on hiatus, until either I finish TDI (wow, it just occurred to me how close the end is!) or I get a new laptop, whichever comes later, unfortunately). So, no worries.

There might be a swear or two. Not a bad chapter, really. A few darker themes, but nothing too troublesome.

Enjoy. :D

* * *

The few days following Geoff's elimination were strange. The day after, I'd had a complete meltdown. I don't know what triggered it. But I freaked out and spilled to Gwen almost everything that had gotten me sent to Juvie. It was especially strange because I thought I was over it. I'd been to multiple therapists, I'd talked to my parents, I talked to the man's family, but still, I felt guilty. And, even weirder, talking to Gwen had helped. I finally felt like I was free of that burden. Maybe it was because I'd never talked to anybody my age about it before, or maybe because she'd told me exactly what it was I needed to hear, but I felt better. I was finally able to forgive myself for everything that had happened.

Two days after, LeShawna got called to the Kraft services tent, and never came back. I wondered if maybe something had happened in her family, but Gwen told me later that all her stuff had disappeared from the cabin one night during dinner. Heather could not be looked to for any sympathy; in fact, she spent the entire next day, elated to the point of near-insanity, and practically danced around on occasion.

The next strange thing to happen was for it to rain for the first time all summer. It started the day after LeShawna left in the morning before we woke up and didn't stop all afternoon. Instead of having a challenge, we spent time in the Arts and Crafts tent. It was really lame, but at least nobody got injured. I made a bow, then spent the rest of the afternoon making an arrow. It was alright.

The final and strangest thing to happen was what happened to me when I woke up the next morning. Stretching and yawning, I walked out of my cabin, walked down the stairs...

Then fell into some water.

I resurfaced, spluttering, and looked around. I was surrounded by water. Completely perplexed, I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't.

"Where did all this water come from?" Gwen asked, just as confused as me. A bunk was floating around by her head, so I assumed their bunk had floated out of the cabin and they had fallen in.

"How should I know?" Heather asked snottily. "Why don't you ask the leeches?" She asked, raising her arm. There were about seven or eight leeches attached and, screaming, she shook them off.

"You know, this is so ridiculous, it's almost funny," I said, and just as I finished saying it, a shark's fin floated by, a few feet behind me. I blanched. Then, it swam in front of Gwen and Heather, and at the same time, we all swam, as fast as we could, toward the cabin I'd just come out of. Shivering in cold and fear, we watched as the shark bit apart the bunk-bed Gwen and Heather had just shared, then obliterated a lawn chair close by.

"Quick! We need something big and chewy to shove in his mouth!" Gwen said.

"**Owen**!" Heather shouted.

I rolled my eyes. "Yea, that's going to help." Then it occurred to me; I hadn't seen Owen since last night. "Guys, where's Owen?" We shared a look and, careful not to fall, headed toward my room in the cabin. He wasn't in there, nor was he on the other side. I frowned, looking at the shark's fin. What if...?

"No," I said suddenly, and Gwen and Heather looked at me. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine."

Gwen and Heather exchanged a glance, wondering the same thing I'd just been wondering. I shook my head. "He's fine."

* * *

We must have been floating for a while before the cabin finally came to a halt. I looked out the window. "Land, ho!" I said, and pointed. Gwen and Heather stood up and looked out the window too. Then we all made a mad dash for the door, and climbed on land.

"O...kay..." Gwen said slowly. "Is anyone else a little creeped by this deserted island?"

"Puh-lease," Heather said skeptically. "Any moron can see that this is one of Chris' cheesy production sets with fake props." She then kicked one of the rocks, and clenched her teeth in pain.

I chuckled. "Yo, drama queens, we've obviously just drifted downstream. The producers will send a search party," I said confidently. Then I sat back against a rock and sighed. "Let's just chill until the rescue party arrives."

Gwen, however, was much more paranoid than me, "What if there isn't a rescue team? What if the producers think we're dead?" She glared at me, now. "I say we build a raft and try to sail back to camp."

"Good call," I said sarcastically. "Let's get more lost." I rolled my eyes. Didn't she know the first rule of survival? If you're lost, you **never** try to find your way. You stay put.

"We need to build a raft!" She said, frustrated.

"We **need **to stay put," I said angrily, glaring away.

"Build a raft!"

"Stay put!"

"Duh!" Heather chimed in, condescending as always. "We're not lost. This is just Chris' lame attempt at challenging our shipwreck survival skills. I'm onto you, Chris!" She shouted. Then she pulled her sunglasses out of her pocket. "I'm going for a walk."

Gwen and I shared a look and I knew that, for one instant, our thoughts were the same: Good riddance.

Then we remembered our argument, and she said, "Don't be an idiot, Duncan. We need to get back to camp. The producers don't care about us! They'd just as soon leave us to die out here."

I rolled my eyes again. "Except for the fact that I'm pretty sure if we die, our parents could sue. They'd rather spend a few bucks for a search party than have to pay one of our families millions of dollars." Suddenly, I wished Courtney were here to back me up. I knew she would; there had to be a clause or something in the contracts that said if we died, they'd be sued, right? "And who are you calling an idiot? If anyone's the idiot here, it's you. Don't you know that when you're lost, you're supposed to stay put so you don't get **more** lost? First rule of survival, sweetheart," I drawled, putting my arms back behind my head.

She glared at me, and was about to retort when Heather called. "Hey, you two! If you're done yelling at each other, I've found us a place to rest." Then, about a second later, we heard a loud scream, a thud, and then another loud scream. I chuckled. She must have fallen out of a tree or something. Walking over, the first thing I saw was a giant T-Rex skull. I was shocked, and suddenly, a little worried. What kind of place was this?

"So!" Heather said, hiding in a bush behind us. "Still think we're downstream from camp?"

"Okay..." I trailed off. "I've been wrong before," I admitted, panicking now. We eventually headed back to the tree house Heather had found, being careful to move slowly. We didn't know what manner of place this was, and didn't want to scare anything. I pinched myself one more time, just to be sure I was awake. It hurt. My stomach sank.

We climbed up to the platform outside the tree house, and Heather poked the skeleton (which I assumed was what scared her off in the first place) which was hanging from a couple of strings. "Wait a sec! This is just like from when they sent us to Boney Island! Don't you see? It's so **obviously** another survival challenge." Then she shouted, "You can't scare me, Chris!"

"What's **obvious**," Gwen started, still angry. "Is that we're stranded on a deserted island and will **die** unless we build a raft!"

"If we're stranded, then the producers will **obviously **rescue us!" I said, irritated.

"What if the producers don't know where to look? They're not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, in case you haven't noticed," she said scathingly.

"Fine," I said, goaded beyond tolerance. "Then let's make a new rule. Every camper for themselves."

"Fine!" They both agreed simultaneously. Heather stalked into the tree house, and Gwen and I climbed down the ladder before heading two different ways. I picked up my bag (which I'd packed before leaving the cabin when we reached land), my bow and my arrow (both of which I'd built in the arts and craft tent yesterday), and headed into the woods while Gwen walked towards the beach.

Now that I was alone, I wondered what to do first. I looked at my bow and arrow and realized I hadn't tested them yet. So I loaded it, pulled my arm back as far as I could pull the arrow, and let go. To my surprise and pleasure, the arrow rocketed out of sight, and I grinned. Then frowned.

"Oh, man," I grumbled heading towards where I thought it might have landed. "I don't have a clue where that thing went." I don't really know why I was speaking out loud, but it was too quiet, and I didn't really like the silence. "Note to self: next time, make more than one arrow."

Suddenly, I heard a rustling sound in the trees and bushes around me. I pulled out my pocketknife and ran forward, shouting in victory.

It was a bunch of bananas that had fallen out of the tree, but, letting my imagination get the best of me, I pretended I was a hunter, and stabbed a few bananas as if it had been a wild animal. "Die, die, die!" I shouted, stabbing the bananas and grinning ferally at them. Looking around, I found some pineapples, and climbed the tree to grab a few. I cut them down, then, hopefully not dulling my knife, cut them open and grinned at my find.

"One fruit salad coming up." I smiled. Then something caught my eye, and I smiled wider. It was a giant bird egg. "Aaaaand... uber omelet on the side! Yea, rockin!"

* * *

I gathered up as much of the fruit as I could carry while also carrying the egg. When I returned to the base of the tree in which the small house was in, I looked up at Heather and saw her eating a candy bar. "Hey! Where'd you get that chocolate?"

"Oh, nowhere. Just Owen's secret stash of junk food," she said, sounding proud of herself.

"That genius! I always thought his mattress looked lumpy," I said, pondering. "You gotta share that with us, man, we're starving."

"Oh no. I believe the term was 'every camper for themselves.' And since we're alone on the island–" She was interrupted by a long, loud roar from somewhere in the distance. In an instant, we were all on the alert, looking for whatever had made that sound. "Or not..." Heather trailed off, panicked.

A few minutes later, after the noise had stopped, Heather, from inside the tree house, said, "It's just Chris, freaking us out."

Then, Gwen's stomach rumbled loudly enough for me to hear it several yards away. "Well, whatever it is, I'm outta here."

"You don't even know where you're going!" Heather called.

"Who cares?" She called back. "At least it's not here with you."

I made my decision in an instant. Between Heather and Gwen, I knew who I'd pick. I'd already eaten enough fruit to be satisfied. So I said, "I'll trade you my egg in exchange for a ride."

She looked unsure, but then her stomach growled again, and she said, "Deal."

I followed her into the water, helping her push her raft away from shore. We jumped on, and Heather ran up to us, saying, "Hey. Hey! Y-you can't just form an alliance and leave me!"

"Bye, Heather," Gwen said as she picked up an oar and started to row. "Good luck."

"Don't go, don't go! I-if you come back, I'll let you have Owen's Mallo Mars!"

Ignoring her, Gwen continued to row away, until Heather was out of sight.

* * *

Maybe half an hour later, I was getting fed up with Gwen's lousy rowing. "You paddle like a girl," I said jeeringly.

"If you don't like the accommodations, there's the door," she said, nodding her head to the side.

"Just give me the oar," I said, trying to grab it. She held tight.

"No! It's my raft. I row."

"Oh, well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you rowed us in a big circle, 'cause there's the shore again," I said, looking at Heather's tree house. I saw something strange nearby, and said, "Hey, wait... Look."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't try to freak me out, Duncan, because it's not going to work."

I scoffed. "If I wanted to freak you out, I wouldn't do it when I'm at your poorly-rowing mercy. But look!" I said, pointing again. She looked, and frowned. "What is that?"

"I dunno. You wanna go check it out?" I asked. She nodded, and started rowing towards shore. The closer we got, the more it looked like a big bunch of coconut husks. When we finally got to shore, Gwen said, "Uh... looks like our deserted island isn't so deserted."

Eying the empty husks, I realized I was hungry again. Then I remembered the egg, and ran back to the raft to grab it. "Which will cost you one omelet!" Then I ran back towards the tree house.

Gwen chased after me, and tried to grab the egg back, when, above us, a loud screech was heard. We looked up and saw a very pissed off bird watching us, checking out what was in our hands.

"Uh... you can have your egg back!" Gwen said, trying to push it back into my hands.

"No, no! Please! I insist!" I said, pushing it back towards her. My heart was pounding. The bird dove. I took the egg and, meaning to head towards the nest to put it back, the bird lifted me by my shirt and, somehow, carried me away. At this point, I became so afraid, I blacked out.

Next thing I knew, I was at the base of a tree, flat on my back, in no small amount of pain. However, my surprise at seeing who I thought I was seeing was enough to keep me from going into shock.

"Owen?" Gwen asked, surprised. I was a little surprised too. He was almost completely naked except for a loincloth, and had red paint at random spots on his body. Then, he also had a significant amount of facial hair. I knew he had to shave about twice a day to keep his face smooth, and I knew he forgot to shave last night, but man! He practically had a beard overnight!

"Oh!" Owen said, and scooped us up in a big hug. "My brethren! At last, we're together! I shall never let go!" Then, just to make our terrible day worse, from seemingly out of nowhere, a giant snake fell from the tree Gwen and I just fell through, and landed, draped over Owen's shoulders, on all of us. "Oh, let me rephrase that," he said calmly. "**Run**!" He set us down and threw the snake off his shoulders in his haste to get away. We climbed up the ladder faster than should be possible, and hid out on the deck in front of it, watching the snake which was watching us, coiled at the base of the ladder, preventing us from getting down. Then, Gwen noticed Owen's beard. "What's with the fake beard?" She asked, tugging it.

"Ow!" Owen shouted back.

* * *

Eventually, we realized that the snake wasn't going anywhere, so, ignoring the fake skeleton, we headed into the tree house and sat around. To our surprise, there were four beds inside, a mirror and a dresser. I leaned against a tree branch, Gwen sat on a bunk, and Heather and Owen grabbed a stool. On the dresser, Owen sat a coconut, and Heather had earlier put a small bunch of bananas as well as whatever of Owen's secret stash she'd grabbed from his bunk. For about an hour, Owen amused himself by playing "I Spy" with the coconut, having clearly gone crazy. Eventually, he asked us to join in, and, reluctantly, we did, if only to prevent him from talking to the coconut as if it were a real person.

I myself was starting to get restless and panicked. We didn't know how long that snake would wait down there, nor did we know how long it would take before we could get more food. However, I didn't want to show it, so I kept quiet.

"I spy with my little eye something that is caramel-y," Owen said happily.

I rolled my eyes. "Mallo Mars?" I asked with absolutely zero interest. Owen chuckled.

"Right again!" He smiled happily. Then he looked at the coconut and said, "Okay, it's your turn, Mr. Coconut."

"He knows it's just a fruit, right?" Gwen asked.

"Okay. That's **it**! I am **done** with this game. I can't bond with you guys anymore because you're all crazy!" She shouted impatiently.

I rolled my eyes. "You say that like you're not."

"I am the only one left on this show with a shred of sanity," she stated firmly.

"Ha! And this coming from the girl who changes friends more often than I change socks," I pointed out.

"Which is **so** not often enough, by the way," she retorted, glaring. "At least **I've** got my game on," she finished, crossing her arms and looking away snottily.

"'Game on?' Hello! **None **of us are in the competition because the producers think we're **dead**. Which means we're going to die on this freakin' island!" She shouted, grabbing her hair, looking like she wanted to tear it out.

"We are?" Owen asked fearfully, face blanching. Then he screamed. "Heavenly hash! We're gonna die! And I've never even had a date! Or held hands! Or fulfilled any of my 'Owen gets jiggy' fantasies! Like the one where–"

"Ah!" Gwen shouted, interrupting him before it got too racy. "Make him stop!"

Heather, being the only one not covering her ears (I have to admit, there was nothing about Owen getting "jiggy" that I particularly wanted to hear), walked up, pulled a banana from the bunch, and shoved it into Owen's mouth. He immediately stopped talking, and swallowed the banana whole. "Thanks," he said, staring at her. Then, suddenly, only a few seconds later, he shouted, "Guys! You know what we have to do?"

"Run for our lives and leave you and Mr. Coconut behind?" I asked, seriously considering the idea.

"No... we need to confess our sins!" He said. I raised an eyebrow.

Apparently, Heather and I were likeminded, because she said, "Uh... **not**."

"Oh, no, seriously!" He insisted. "I confessed all my sins, it felt great! Don't you want to clear your conscience before you die?" Owen wheedled.

Since he put it that way...

* * *

Heather went first. Not because she had the most sins or anything, but because Gwen and I were both too reluctant.

"This might sound a bit strange to you," she started, "but I really don't have that many. There's the lying," she admitted. "But you guys knew that." She pondered for a second. "I guess... I guess I'll just tell you guys the worst thing I've ever done."

And she told us her story.

"You wouldn't know it, but when I was in middle school, I was... well, different. A lot different. I was still mean and nasty," she tacked on, seeing Gwen and my skeptical looks. "But... I had less of a reason to be." She dug in her pocket for a second and pulled out her wallet, which was slim. She opened it, and I saw her license, a couple credit cards, and her school ID. She dug behind the school ID for a second and grabbed a picture. She passed it to us, and we all looked at it in shock.

Whoever it was in the picture could **not** be Heather. She was chubby and pimply, and her shirt looked like she'd borrowed it from her grandma. She had braces and thick, round glasses, and a haircut that resembled both a bowl cut and a mullet all at once. Gwen, Owen and I kept looking from the picture to her, back and forth, silent in our disbelief.

"That's me when I was twelve," she explained ruefully. "I was in seventh grade." She took a deep breath, and carried on, almost robotic sounding, as if remembering it were painful. "I never really cared much what I looked like. All I cared about was studying and getting good grades. Obviously, since I was so short and fat and..." she shuddered a bit in explanation. "Anyways, I got picked on by the same girl, almost constantly. Her name's Tricia. She was in almost every class of mine, so there was almost no escaping it. As a result, I was mean and bitter right back, even though I really had no excuse.

"My dad is a CEO, so we make... pretty decent money," she admitted. "I had all the resources I could to be like them if I'd wanted, so, no, I had no excuse. The thing is, I didn't want to be like them. I didn't have any friends, but even if I'd had friends, I would want them to be my friend because they actually liked me, not because of my money or my clothes. But nobody would be my friend, because if they did, they'd be teased too.

"So, for the rest of the year, I watched the girls who always made fun of me, and listened to what they said and how they treated other people. I learned more in those few months than I ever did in my whole life. Then, for the rest of the summer, I washed my face and dieted and exercised religiously. I got invisible braces and contacts. I watched MTV twenty-four seven. I got my hair and nails done constantly. I went shopping and bought a whole new wardrobe, and come next school year, I had completely transformed into someone new.

"That year, when we went back to school, I was completely different, and everybody noticed. Immediately, I was popular. I was invited to parties, I was asked out by almost every guy in the school. Tricia even asked me to be friends. But none of that mattered, because they still weren't my friends and they never would be. So, one night, when she was on vacation, I snuck into Tricia's dad's study. She trusted me to walk her dogs for her while they were gone. So, I looked for something, anything, that I could use to get her family into trouble, and I found it. A security tape he'd taken from his work that had proof he was embezzling hundreds of thousands of dollars from his company. I turned it into the police under an alias and wearing a wig and my old glasses. A week later, Tricia was ruined." She finished.

We stared at her in shock, and she shrugged. "You guys should know me by now. I'm a very vengeful person. Even as a kid, I stopped at nothing to get my revenge."

"Apparently," I said, still surprised. Gwen nodded. Then we all fell silent.

Heather looked between Gwen and me, and said, "So, who's next?"

Gwen and I exchanged looks, and she sighed. "Fine. I'll go next."

* * *

"Well, we were born in the United States, my brother and I. And my dad died when I was four. He was in the army. He died overseas. My brother and I were as devastated as toddlers can be, but my mom..." She trailed off. "Before I tell you what happened, I need to tell you guys about her," she said quietly. "She's a wonderful person, and I love her to death, but she's a lot like Lindsay, in that she wouldn't know common sense if she'd married it." We all chuckled, then she continued, "So, after my dad died, she was depressed for a while, then indifferent for a while, and then..." She bit her lip, thinking. "Then, for a while, she was... well, kind of a skank." She looked guilty for saying that. "I hate having to put it that way, but it's true. She would go out every night, get herself drunk, find a guy and bring him home.

"Well, one night when I was nine, she never came home. I was worried, but I went to bed anyways, because I had school the next morning. But at three-thirty, my brother woke me up, because he heard something in the hall. So I got up and walked down the hall towards the stairs so I could see what it was. It was my mom, who was passed out, and two guys I'd never seen before. They were talking about my mom for a minute, saying really nasty stuff about her, then they decided to put her to bed. I ran back to my room, leaving the door open just enough to hear what was going on.

"They put her in her room and went to the living room. I told my brother to stay in my room, and he did, so I went back to the stairs to listen. They talked for a few more minutes about my mom, then started talking about robbing my house. I wanted to get to the phone to call the cops, but in order to get to the kitchen where the phone was, I'd have to go through the living room, and they would see me."

She paused before continuing. "I went back to my room and found the bluntest object I could find. I was really scared, and didn't know what I was going to do, but my brother lent me his baseball bat, and I walked downstairs. I told them to go away, but they just laughed and said they would once they had taken their payment for bringing my mom home. Then they came forward and tried to take my bat, but I ended up hitting one of them in the nuts with it, and the other got hit in the stomach and doubled over. I ran to the kitchen, leaving the bat, grabbed the phone and ran to the basement. I called the cops, and told them there were people in my house, trying to rob it, but they didn't believe me because I sounded so young. Lucky for me, they'd recovered in time to shout, and I held the phone out and the lady heard.

"Unfortunately, it wasn't a cordless phone, and the guys knew where I was. When they came downstairs, they took the phone and knew I'd called the police. I don't know why it didn't occur to them to try to escape, but I think they were just angry that a little girl and bested them, so they tried to attack me. My basement was huge, so I ran and hid, but they eventually found me. So it was a fight between them and me." She paused again, and this time, smiled wryly.

"I'd give you a play-by-play account of what had happened, but I don't remember it. I was so scared and so angry that I must have blacked out. But when I came to..." She frowned now, looking off into the distance. "One of the guys was unconscious by the stairs, and I was sitting on the other one, pinning his arms down and punching him over and over. The police were trying to pull me off of him."

She shook her head. "Since it was out of self-defense, I didn't get in any trouble, even though they both ended up in a coma. The one I'd kept hitting broke his nose and two bones in his skull. I still don't know how it happened. They tried to get off by saying they were drunk, but ended up with six months in prison for attempted robbery."

"However, we weren't out of danger yet. They had a lot of friends who knew my mom and tried to attack us. This one time, we'd gone grocery shopping, and when we came home, the entire house was in ruins. So, when my mom called the police, we ended up being put under the Witness Protection Program. We had to change our appearances, and mom changed her job, and they ended up putting us in Canada." She grinned. "Getting onto the show was almost impossible, but our case officer said it was okay, since I'd grown up so much and look so different." Then her smile faded again, and now she looked angry. "But I still hate them and what they did. The only good thing that came out of it was that my mom stopped going out all the time. But we had to leave our home, our friends, even our dad's grave. We aren't allowed to see our grandparents, or our old friends. If I ever seen them again, I'll kill them," she said very seriously.

I put a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled at me weakly. "So, you put a couple people in a coma? Dang, Gwen. That's... yikes," Heather said, failing to sound completely sympathetic.

Now, everybody was looking at me, and this was what I'd been dreading. Admitting what I promised myself I would never tell anybody…

"No chance I'm getting out of this, huh?" I asked wryly. They all shook their heads, obviously curious as to what had gotten me sent to Juvie. "Alright, then." I took a deep breath. I could do this. I wouldn't be sick this time. I could do it. I forgave myself. I was alright. "Gwen, I've got to admit, the story I told you the other day on the beach wasn't... Well, it was all true, but I didn't exactly tell you the end."

She looked confused. I elaborated.

* * *

To even my own great surprise, I told them everything. I told them about the fire I'd started in the house that was old, and condemned to destruction that week anyways. I told them about going home that night and pretending nothing had happened. I told them about how I'd gone to see my father at his request at work the next day and the cold distance everyone in the station had given me. I told them about the man in the attic, who had jumped and was then paralyzed.

"And... when he found out he'd be paralyzed for life, he..." I paused, and took a deep breath. I bit my lip, trying not to show weakness. I couldn't. "He killed himself."

I put my head in my hands and laced my fingers through my hair. I didn't cry, but I was shaking, gasping. Why did I agree to do this? I couldn't handle it. I was just kidding myself, thinking I was okay. I tried to stop shaking. I tried to breathe. Eventually, my shaking slowed, and stopped. I took a deep breath and loosened my grip on my hands. I was back to normal. I leaned my elbows on my knees, and said, "Even though I didn't do it, I still feel guilty. It was an accident. I never meant for it to happen. I would give anything to go back in time and change everything."

"Whoa," Gwen said, sitting up now; she'd been laying down since she'd heard it all before. "So **that's** what you went to Juvie Hall for."

I nodded. I would have gotten sent there anyways, because of the fire, but I didn't feel the need to say otherwise. Instead, I continued to look at the ground, and said, "Yea, but... As least it's not as bad as what Heather did!" I said. I didn't actually believe that. I just really needed to change the subject, and besides, Heather **had** done what she did on purpose. All I did was start a house on fire. What happened afterwards wasn't my fault.

"I admit, it was a little... unorthodox, but it didn't come **close** to what Gwen did. **If** that's even your real name."

Gwen looked down, obviously unable to tell us.

Owen sighed and laid down on a bunk. "There. Don't you feel better now?"

Gwen, Heather and I exchanged looks. Personally, I didn't. If anything, I felt angry and guilty and confused all over again. But at the same time, telling the whole story without edits made me feel... free, I guess. There was even less of a weight on my chest than there'd been after I told Gwen part of it.

Then, Owen realized that a spider had just fallen on his face, and he jumped up and said, "Ew! Ew! Spider in the bed! Spider in the bed!" Then he ran outside and rubbed it off his face. Then he was quiet for a minute and said, "Hey, look! We got neighbors."

We three shared a look again then ran outside. Sure enough, smoke was filtering slowly upwards from several kilometers away. "A rescue team?" I asked excitedly.

"Or a trick," Heather said suspiciously. "Courtesy of Chris."

"I know how we can find out," Owen offered, grinning.

* * *

A few minutes later, we found ourselves, armed with weapons, faces painted, back on the deck. Owen had talked us into dressing up as island natives and going to attack whoever was here. Heather and Gwen exchanged looks before Gwen said, "I don't know about this."

"We pretend we're the head hunters, and scare the bejeepers out of whoever's messing with our heads," Owen explained again.

"There's only one problem," I pointed out. Then I pointed down. "A fifty foot python with an attitude!"

"Oh, that," Owen said casually. Then he threw the coconut at it, knocking it out with one hit.

"Why didn't you do that hours ago?" Gwen asked angrily.

"What? And miss out on all our bonding?" He asked innocently. We all gave him a flat look. "Come on! Let's go Ooga-Boogie!"

* * *

We ran through the woods towards the smoke, Owen at the lead. A few minutes later, he stopped and turned to face us. "This is it, brethren. We may not come back alive. So let's get our Oogie-Boogie ga-**roove** on!"

"Yea, Owen. I'm not so sure about this..." Gwen trailed off.

Ignoring her, Owen turned, ran, and shouted louder than I've ever heard him. Following, we screamed too.

After jumping out into the clearing, weapons up, ready to attack, we, had the shock of our lives. Standing in front of us, a very shocked Chef was shaking in the arms of our most beloved host, who said, "Hey guys. It's about time you showed up."

Owen took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Coconut! It's a mirage!" Then he held it up. "They're just figments of my imagination."

Softly, Chef asked, "Uh... Why's he talking to a coconut?"

"Owen? It's not a mirage," Chris explained. "It's our production crew's secret location. Or, **was** a secret until now."

"But... what about the T-Rex skull?" Heather asked.

"And the prehistoric goose?" I asked, remembering the egg incident.

Chris chuckled. "Oh, those are just leftovers from a dinosaur movie that was–"

"You mean," Heather interrupted. "While we were shipwrecked, you were here, basking in the lap of luxury, a mere hundred feet away?" She accused, and while she was yelling, it started to rain. After pausing to observe the rain, Chris responded.

"Yes, Heather. That would be accurate." Then he frowned at us. "Sorry. I'd invite you in, but there's only room for six." Then he waved at us. "See you at the campfire tonight!" He finished, and shut the door.

The rest of us looked up at the sky, mouths open, irritated beyond belief. We'd just spent the whole day in each other's company, aggravated beyond wit, for a challenge. Heather had been right all along.

"One of these days," I started. "I'm going to kill that guy."

"When you do," Heather responded. "Please give me a call."

* * *

The producers eventually took us back to camp where we could finally shower, eat and change our clothes. Gwen and Heather showered while Owen and I ate, then we swapped.

Once we'd been properly fed, bathed and dressed, we headed to the bonfire pit for tonight's Marshmallow ceremony. I wondered who would get the boot. I'd voted for Heather, since she was finally not invincible. Plus, she'd be my biggest competition here; when it came down to it, she was the only one I had to be afraid of, and I assume she thought the same of me, which would explain the daggers she glared at me before Chris showed up. I grinned, though, despite myself. There was no way she could persuade Gwen to vote me off when she herself was vote worthy. Owen I wasn't so sure of, but I figured he wouldn't vote for me, either, not after everything Heather had said about Izzy during the Tri-Armed challenge.

Then, Chris showed up, and my musings were cut short. "Well, it's been a grueling day, campers. Frankly, Chef and I are worn out. I hope you've learned two valuable lessons. First," he said, holding up a finger. "Always make sure your cabins are securely fastened to the ground. And second, the 'every camper for themselves' idea sucks. Four heads are always better than one."

Owen cleared his throat loudly. "I think you mean five," he corrected, holding Mr. Coconut up.

Chris pulled out his tray of marshmallows. I looked at it for several seconds before realizing what was wrong here; there were four campers, and four marshmallows. What did that mean? He didn't actually treat Mr. Coconut as a real person, did he? How embarrassing would that be to be voted out over a coconut? "Which brings us to yet another dramatic Marshmallow Ceremony."

"Wait a minute," I pointed out, confused. "You have four marshmallows. That's one for each of us!" I told him. Maybe someone had counted wrong?

"Excellent observation, dude," he commended, then threw two marshmallows. "Heather, Duncan." Two more. "Gwen. Owen."

"Oh no!" Owen shouted, looking at the coconut fearfully. "You don't mean...!"

"Yep," Chris declared happily. "It's time for Mr. Coconut to walk the Dock of Shame."

"But whyyy?" Owen sobbed.

Chris grabbed the coconut and threw it towards the dock. It rolled away. "Get it together, dude. You're starting to creep me out."

"Mr. Coconut!" Owen shouted, arms held out. "**No**!"

Chris shook his head, rolled his eyes, and said, "Next challenge is in a couple days. Get some rest. I'll see you campers later. McLean, out!" He said, then walked away.

"By the way..." Heather said slowly, quietly. "What we confessed back there STAYS back there."

"Oh yea," I said.

"No argument," Gwen agreed.

"Good," Heather nodded. "I'm glad we're agreed." Then she stood up, and we all followed suit.

The walk back to the cabin was awkward. We were all positive that we were sort of enemies, but we all knew each others deepest, darkest, dirtiest secret. Personally, they were the only ones besides my parents, parole office and victims that knew my secret now. What do you call someone who knows you more than anyone else, but whom you hate more than anyone else, too?


	35. Are We There, Yeti

**A/N:** So, hi guys. How are you? o.o I want to start this note out by saying that I apologize deeply for the long wait for this chapter. As you might know, I started college in August and it's been such a whirlwind of papers and homework and studying and maintaining a social life that I had practically no time for writing much of anything but papers and homework. D:  
But the good news is, I'M ON VACATION!  
Which means I had plenty of time to make this chapter work exactly the way I wanted it to work.

There are a few things about this chapter. I changed a few things out of canon for the sake of the flow of this chapter. Just simple things, like the end when Duncan is on the boat heading to the Playa Des Losers and Chef keeps pulling off the mask? I didn't like that in the show. Personally, I thought it detracted from the feeling of the episode. And if it would have detracted from the feel of the episode then it **definitely** would have detracted from the feel of the chapter. So, a simple change. There are a few of them in this chapter, but they're small. Barely noticeable unless you know the episode front to back. :)

Now, since it's been so long since you've had a chapter, I'm going to shut up and let you read, but stick around and read the authors note at the bottom of the chapter because it's got a few very important announcements.

So, without any further ado, please enjoy the long-awaited, much-anticipated chapter thirty-five: Are We There, Yeti?

* * *

The few days following the castaways challenge were especially tense and awkward. Not only because of our heart-to-heart care-and-share session a few days ago, but also because this was it; whoever won the next challenge was in the top three. I, like my other cast-mates, was determined to win it. If only I could get rid of Heather, my path ahead would be clear. Unfortunately for all of us, it was more difficult to vote Heather off than it sounded, considering she was more slippery than a wet bar of soap.

At this point, they weren't telling us the rest of the challenges, so we had no idea when it would be, or where it would be, or what it would be. All we knew was that it was coming, fast, and we all had to be prepared to win or be prepared to walk.

I looked at myself in the mirror one morning before breakfast and saw the changes in myself. I made myself a promise that I would not be the one to walk. Not this time. Not yet.

* * *

I went to bed that night in the same bunk as Owen. I don't know why. Maybe the same reason Gwen and Heather shared a bunk now too. Not because we were friends. Because we understood each other a little more and because we were all sick of being alone on this island. We learned our lesson from last time; being alone sucked.

And for the second time in too narrow a range of time, when I woke up, I had no idea where I was. In fact, if it weren't for the sound of Heather freaking out, I wouldn't have woken up at all.

"What? Who's that? Where are we!" Heather panicked.

"How did we get here?" I asked.

"Chris?" Gwen called.

"**Mommy**!" Owen shouted.

All four of us looked around frantically, wondering where we were and what happened to camp. I had no doubt in my mind that this was another challenge and that the producers had put us here on purpose, but it didn't make my panic lessen any. Was this the challenge? We had to get out of the woods?

Then, the familiar sound of a helicopter put us at ease, if only for a moment. "Everybody just shut up!" Another familiar sound shouted at us. Looking up, I saw that it was Chef, further strengthening my belief that this was our challenge. "How you got here is not your concern," he said, landing on the ground. I raised my eyebrow. You'd think suddenly being displaced in the middle of the woods **would** be our concern.

Climbing out of bed, we all lined up in front of Chef. "What happened to Chris?" Gwen asked.

"None of your gosh darn **business** what happened to Chris. I'M in charge now, and I'm gonna make you wish you were never born," Chef explained, a look of sadistic excitement in his eyes. "Your mission is to find your way out of the forest, or **die** trying."

"You can't be serious!" Heather exclaimed incredulously. "We **will** die!"

"Here's how it works," Chef went on, ignoring Heather. "Team One: Delinquent and Chubby," he declared, throwing Owen a backpack. I assumed, seeing as to how he couldn't possibly be referring to anyone else, that I was 'Delinquent.' "Team Two: Grim and Grimmer." I smirked a little at that one, and wondered who was who, but Chef carried on. "Everything you need is in these bags. You'll navigate your way north to base camp. The first team to tag the camp totem pole wins. And here's a tip: better set up camp before sundown because once nightfall hits, you won't even see your trembling hand in front of your terrified face." I frowned. Seriously? Again with the abandoned in the woods challenge? They couldn't come up with anything more creative? "Unless... you got night vision goggles. But you don't," he said, laughing hysterically. I think it was the laugh that really did it for me, but the second he finished his statement, I knew that I absolutely must have the goggles. I worked hard to cover up a grin as I ran forward, my best look of horror smothering my amusement.

Grabbing Chef's apron, I begged, "Oh, please, please, don't leave us here! I'm begging you, we won't survive!" Subtly, so quickly nobody would notice, I grabbed the goggles from his pocket and slid them under my shirt, barely held up by the waistline of my jeans. He pushed me back and I panicked for an instant, worried they would fall out. They were jostled and I came at least a second from losing them, but once I regained my balance, I subtly pushed them back down and they rested safely once more in their new spot.

"Grab a hold of your guts, soldier!" He shouted, probably just as confused as the rest of my fellow campers. I took a deep breath, and pushed them even further down into my pants for safety, under the guise of trying to compose myself. I nodded once and walked back to where Owen was standing next to our bag.

"This is totally bonkers!" Owen declared fearfully. "We'll be scarfed down by a grizzly!"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Chef said in a calming tone. "You'll **wish** you saw a grizzly when you meet up with ol' Sasquatchanakwa. He's one mean mamma jamma." The helicopter then reappeared, and he grabbed onto the ladder, calling "Good luck, troops! Try not to die!" over his shoulder as he left.

"This isn't legal!" Heather shouted after him, brandishing a fist. "You can't do this!"

"Hey Peaches, file it with the network lawyers," I advised, grabbing our pack from Owen, then running away from the girls, dragging Owen, shirt collar first, behind me.

* * *

After a few seconds, I let him go, knowing he'd continue after me. We ran for a good while, heading as deep into the woods as we could go. I knew the run would be tough on Owen, but, like a real champ, he didn't complain for a while, even though I could hear him wheezing behind me.

A good five minutes later, he finally asked, "Where are we going?"

I stopped, knowing he needed a break. "I just wanted to get away from the girls. Psyche them out a bit, you know?" Then I grabbed the pack and held it upside down, shaking out its contents. "Okay, let's see what we've got."

There were about four items in the pack; what appeared to be a can of bug spray, a sleeping bag, a map and a pair of binoculars. I looked at it with disdain. A map, but no compass? One sleeping bag? And what good would binoculars do me?

"Yup. Yup. It's all good, except one thing's missing," Owen pointed out objectively. I gave him a questioning look, and he dropped to his knees and shouted, "**Food**!" As he shouted, I heard a loud growling sound.

"What was that?" I asked, looking around. It sounded loud and it sounded close, but most importantly, it sounded angry.

"We're gonna die out here!" Owen shouted, glancing every which way.

I smirked smugly. "We'll be out of the woods in no time, thanks to these babies!" I then pulled the goggles from out of my pocket with a showy flourish.

Owen's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Then he smiled. "You stole those from Chef? Sweet!"

"What can I say? I'm a hardened criminal," I said, somewhat proudly. It's not like **he** needed the goggles. Plus, using those goggles would get us to the camp in no time. Just one night without sleeping, then I'd get three whole days of restful, relaxing sleep knowing that my biggest rival was eliminated. "With these babies, we can see as clear as day."

Owen chuckled, then reached over for them. "Awesome, let me see those!" I was about to say something when he put them on and, like some kind of moron, looked straight towards the sun. "AH! MY EYES! I'VE BEEN BLINDED!" He frantically tried to take them off, and I worried for a second that he would break them.

Reaching over and grabbing the goggles protectively, I said, "Alright, that's enough. We've got a challenge to win." I picked up the pack, handed it to Owen and looked around. "Now grab the map while I figure out where we are."

"Sure, but the map isn't much use without a compass, is it?" I heard him pick up the map behind me. I looked around towards the sun. Judging by how rested I felt, I figured it had to be roughly nine AM, and the sun was low in the sky slightly to my left. Doing some quick calculations, I determined that north had to be slightly to the right of me.

"Okay, the sun rose from the east, which means that's north, so... camp is that way!" I said, pointed towards where I was certain we should go.

"Are you sure?" Owen asked doubtfully, looking at the map. "I think the sun rose from over there, which means the camp is that way."

"Uh, yea, I think you're wrong. We're going this way. Let's move," I ordered, walking towards what I assumed was north. Owen waited for a second, hesitating, then gave up and followed me.

* * *

We walked north for about an hour and a half, maybe two hours when we ran into a problem; a giant cliff blocking the way. "Wait here," I told Owen, running left. I ran for a good five minutes, looking for some way up or around the cliff. I found none. I ran back towards Owen, passed him, and ran the other way for five minutes. Still nothing. Sighing in resignation, I ran back to Owen and said, "Well, it would seem as though the only way to go is up."

"Up? As in... **climb** this thing?" He asked dubiously.

"Yes," I said flatly. "Let's go." I grabbed the first rock I could find and pulled myself up.

"Are you sure?" He called after me. I could hear the slight quake in his voice, but couldn't muster up sympathy for him. Ignoring him, I continued upward. I barely heard him sigh, and looked down to see him slowly following me. I slowed down to let him catch up.

Not that I was entirely fearless myself; I was absolutely terrified that I would fall, or slip, or a foothold would cave in from under my weight. But I had to trust myself that I was strong enough to overcome this obstacle, because under me was nothing but trees, river, and solid ground.

"Did you catch what Chef said about the Sasquatchanakwa?" Owen asked. He sounded only slightly strained, so I figured that meant that our pace was good enough for him. "That really freaked me out." I rolled my eyes. I didn't believe in the Sasquatchanakwa. It all sounded like some big hoax to me. One of Chef's inventions to try to get us to move faster and make the game more interesting.

Then, suddenly, mid-thought, both my footholds gave out and I was dangling over the edge, about a hundred feet up, by one hand. I shouted, but Owen kept talking. The blood pounding in my ears from my panic made it impossible to hear. I flailed for a minute in fear, then stopped for an instant, collected my breath, reached up my other hand and pulled myself onto the ledge behind Owen. I barely heard him say, "...the missing link between humans and monkeys?"

"Really?" I said, faking interest. "I'd say the missing monkey is right **here**." I shouted, and bopped him on the head.

"Ow!" He said, rubbing his head. "No, I'm serious! Witnesses say he's eight feet tall, four-hundred pounds, and has BO that'd make you hurl chunks from, like, two hundred yards." Tuning in only slightly, I pulled myself up to the top of the cliff, the adrenaline from my near-fall making me slightly giddy.

"Come on. If he really existed, don't you think someone would've caught him by now?"

"Nah. He's crafty," he explained, pulling himself up. Looking over at him, I noticed something in my peripheral vision and focused in on it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say...

Surprised, I pulled out the binoculars and focused on them. I was right. "Hey! Hey, it's the girls!" I grinned. "And they're going the wrong way!" Amused, I shouted, "Typical chicks with zero sense of direction! Hey, here's a pointer! Try checking a map!"

"Uh, we would if we had one. But this compass tells us that's north. You know. Like where Chef says that camp is," Gwen shouted back smugly.

Frowning, I ran over to Owen and grabbed the map. Then I groaned; he'd been holding it upside down the whole time!

"Enjoy the view up there. Suckers!" Heather shouted at us. Running, they soon disappeared from our sights, following the river.

"Great. Now **we're** behind," I exclaimed in annoyance. Grabbing the pack, I said, "We'll just have to jump and dive into the river," I said nonchalantly, gesturing towards the river. Preparing myself to jump, Owen came up behind me.

Walking up to the edge and laughing nervously, he said, "Oh, no. I don't do daredevil dives anymore. Been there, done that. No can do." I knew that he was thinking of the very first challenge and how he was the last one to go. I was thinking of it, too. It wasn't something I'd want to do again, but I refused to let us lose, and if diving headfirst off a cliff into a dangerously small body of water was going to make us win, then my only question was how soon could I start jumping?

I snuck up behind him, quiet as a mouse, and said, "Then no worries. I'll do it for you!" Then I pushed him off and, barely two seconds later, followed suit.

The water was a pleasant temperature, and was a lot deeper than I had expected. Fortunately, Owen had gone first, so any surface tension there might have been was already nulled. It was climbing out of the water that was unpleasant. I hadn't thought to take my shoes off, so, soaked through, I squished my way out of the water and immediately started thinking. If the girls were following the river, then that meant that we had to follow the river too. Looking at it from where the girls were standing, I followed their line of travel and was pleased to notice that they were walking downstream. I ran to the woods and found a bunch of broken, dead logs. Rolling them towards Owen, he realized what I was trying to do and looked for anything we could use to tie them together. Old weeping willow branches were abundant just upstream and he brought them back and we quickly tied a makeshift raft. We put it in the water and climbed on, and it wasn't until a few minutes later I thought that I should have grabbed something I could use to row, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The stream was decently fast, so we just sat on the raft in silence, following passively where the river led us.

Eventually, we passed the girls, who were sitting down and eating a couple of bars of some sort. I nudged Owen, and we waved. We eventually attracted Gwen's attention, and she followed us with her eyes, which attracted Heather's attention. We relaxed again and watched as the girls stood up quickly and ran after us. We were about even until the river curved, heading away from the direction we were supposed to go. Getting back onto land set us back a while, because we tried to fight the current and use our hands to row to the bank. Then, realizing that wouldn't work, we simply jumped into the water and swam to the bank.

By the time we were back on land, the girls had a good head start. "Come on," I gestured to Owen, and we ran as fast as we could after them even though it didn't matter. They had a solid lead. It would take a lot of running to catch up at this point. I frowned and tried not to think about it.

* * *

We walked for a while once Owen couldn't run anymore. Even though the girls were both decently fit, they couldn't run forever. So Owen and I decided to walk. I was starting to lose faith that we were going the right way when we saw something on the ground. Owen recognized it before I did and ran towards it. That was when I realized it was food. Rolling my eyes, I let him take it. Once he picked it up, he suddenly gasped as his feet flew out from under him, and he was hoisted up, hanging upside down by his ankles. It was a trap. Rolling my eyes, I put the pack down and jumped up into the tree. I untied the knot, mentally cursing the girls, though I had to admit that it was clever. Setting up a trap to set us back even further was a pretty good move.

Once Owen was freed, I caught a flash of something in the distance—a pair of green-tan shorts. Heather! Gasping, I jumped down and ran after her, but either she was hiding out somewhere or she was faster than me, because she was gone. Marching flat-footed back to Owen, I opened the pack to see what she took. I felt my pocket to make sure the goggles were still there first and was relieved to find that they were. Then I looked all around in the bag and realized gratefully that the only thing gone was the bug spray, which we hadn't even touched.

"What'd they take?" Owen asked through a mouthful of whatever that bar was. Even though he hadn't thought to offer me any, I wasn't mad. I wasn't that hungry. Something about adventuring in the woods sort of killed any appetite I might have had.

"Just the bug spray," I said dismissively.

"Oh, good. I was worried they took the map," he said, relieved.

"True, they didn't take anything valuable... but that doesn't mean they're off the hook," I said menacingly, punching my hand and glaring into the distance. "The good news is that they waited here long enough for us to catch up, which was really stupid of them," I said, wondering how desperate they were for bug spray that they would jeopardize themselves like that. "So, hurry up, let's chase after them, but try to be quiet, okay?"

Owen nodded. "What are we going to take from them, anyways?"

I grinned. "Oh, you'll see, Owen. You'll see."

* * *

We ran towards the direction where I saw Heather disappear. I knew Owen was tired already, but he knew how important it was that we found them. Fortunately, we did finally catch up. Once we did, I held Owen back for a few minutes.

"Alright. What we're gonna do is sneak up behind them and scare the crap out of them. If I know either of them at all, they're more worried about the Sasquatchanakwa than you are, and they'll drop their bag and run," I explained. "So, when we get to them, I want you to roar as loud and ferocious as you can. I'll take what we need, and then we'll run back, grab our pack and take off. Got it?"

Owen nodded. "Got it."

Stalking the girls quietly, we managed to slide into a bush undetected right behind them. I held up three fingers and caught Owen's attention. On one, we both roared pretty threatening roars, and the girls dropped the pack and booked it toward the trees. I ran up to it, grabbed as many of the bars (that I realized were energy bars) as I could, ran back to Owen, and we took off perpendicular to the trail we should have been taking. A few minutes away, I revealed to Owen the fruit of our labor. He squealed with glee and took one. We sat for a few minutes and enjoyed the energy bars before planning some more.

"Our next trap..." I said slowly, pondering.

"Oh, oh! I know!" Owen said, his mouth full of energy bar. I raised an eyebrow. "A deep pit! We cover it with sticks and they step over it and fall in!"

I was impressed. "...Wow," I said, my eyes wide. "Um... that's actually a good idea." I slapped my knees and stood up. "Alright then. Well, why waste time? I'll start gathering sticks. Stay here and guard the stuff."

He nodded, eyeing the remaining energy bars greedily. "Aye, aye, captain."

* * *

I had gathered several armfuls of sticks and was just about to get rid of my current armful when I heard a shout. I groaned, because that could only mean one thing—the girls got to Owen. I ran back, threw my sticks at the pile and saw Owen cowering up in a tree.

"What was it, Owen?"

He jumped down and looked around furtively. "It was a **mummy**!"

He continued rambling for a solid minute about how terrifying it was and all I could do was hold my head in my hand. "Owen?" I interrupted. He stopped talking. "What... would a mummy be doing... IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS?" I shouted angrily.

He looked sheepish. "...I dunno... Maybe he lost something here?"

I sighed angrily. "What did they take?"

He looked around, then grinned apologetically. "...The sleeping bag?"

I groaned, but was slightly relieved; we weren't going to use the thing anyways, were we? "Alright. Well, then, since you lost the sleeping bag, you fill the pack with those sticks. We're leaving in five, and don't think I wouldn't be afraid to leave without you," I bluffed believably.

* * *

A pack and several armfuls of sticks later, we found ourselves once again running forward at full speed. Not only did we have to dig the hole, we also had to place the sticks over it so that it didn't look like a trap. Plus, we had to do it with enough time to spare.

We found a clearing after running for a good ten minutes and, since Owen was gasping and heaving, I took it upon myself to dig the hole. Since I had to use my hands, I lifted as much dirt at a time as I could, and when the hole was about my height and two of me across, I climbed out of it and Owen helped me put the sticks over it. I heard voices, and dragged Owen into a bush with me. We got out of the way just in time; the second I pulled my leg out of sight, the girls came into the clearing. We watched silently from the bushes and I grinned as I watched Owen's plan work perfectly.

As they fell, they accidentally threw the bag up in the air and I leaped towards the hole and grabbed it. I dug inside for a minute, thinking what we might need the most, and decided to take the compass. While they slept with the nice warm sleeping bag, Owen and I would make it back to camp in the dead of night thanks to the compass, map and the handy-dandy night vision goggles.

I threw the pack down into the hole, probably hitting one of them on the head. Then I grabbed our pack and we took off once again.

* * *

Several hilarious hijinks later, Owen and I had not only our entire pack back, but the girls' entire pack too. At one point, it had stopped being about taking what we needed and more about simply putting the other team at a disadvantage. Walking calmly through the woods as it grew ever darker, Owen dug through our pack and pulled out the night vision goggles. Looking around, he smiled. "Oh, hello, Mr. Squirrel. And hello to you, Mr. Raccoon. Oh. Good day, Mr. Sasquatchanakwa."

Turning around, wondering if I heard what I thought I just heard, I heard him gasp, and shout, "**Run**!" Hesitating only a minute to look behind me, I ran after him, both of us shouting.

Barely able to see, I followed Owen until it got completely dark. I assumed we entered a cave of some sort.

"Duncan?"

"Owen?"

"Heather?"

"Duncan?"

"Heather?"

"Gwen?"

"Gwen?"

"Owen?"

"Now that we've taken roll call, what are we going to do?" I recognized Heather by her voice and attitude. "Did you see the **size** of that thing?"

"I could've taken him," I joked.

"Is that why you were screaming like a little girl?" Gwen teased.

"...Right. Well, I was just faking him out," I whispered back. "Anyway, I think we're safe here for a while."

"Um, that depends on what you mean by 'safe,'" Owen pointed out, having a slight fear of both the dark and of small spaces.

"I never thought I'd say this," Heather started, voice soft. "But please tell me that tongue in my ear is Owen."

"No..." Owen trailed off. "That would be the... **bats**!"

At which point we all vacated the cave as quickly as we could.

* * *

We ran as far as we could as fast as we could and when we reached our limit, Owen collapsed and I found myself leaning against a tree for support.

"Do sasquatches get meaner at night?" Heather asked irritably.

"I don't know," I replied, gasping for breath. "But I don't really wanna find out."

Just then, we heard more feral snarling and took off again, deeper in a direction we weren't too sure about.

* * *

When we finally stopped, we sat and rested for a while. For the time being, all rivalry was forgotten, all competition put on hold. The fact that we just barely survived an encounter with something none of us had honestly believed in had us all on the edge.

However, once we had all calmed down and caught our breath, we remembered that, all threats against our lives aside, we **were** in a competition. Heather and I appeared to be on the same page, because once we all stood up, prepared to go our separate ways, she said, "Since you guys still have supplies and a map, I guess you beat us."

Gwen scoffed. "Speak for yourself."

"It's obvious they kicked our butts," Heather argued. This was about the time I started getting suspicious. Maybe if Gwen was the one saying they'd lost and Heather was making a fuss, but I knew that Heather was at least twice as competitive as Gwen, and there was no way she'd give up before Gwen did. I decided to keep on the lookout, and subtly hid the most important things on me; the map, the compass and the night vision goggles. I'd also have to remember to warn Owen...

"Fine. Whatever! You beat us," Gwen argued, crossing her arms fussily.

"Uh, look, if you guys wanna bunk with us, it's cool. Why don't you, uh, set up camp while we look for firewood?" I asked, and before waiting for an answer, dragged Owen off with me.

As if he read my mind, Owen asked, "You really think we can trust them with our stuff back there?"

"As if," I said doubtfully, lifting my shirt and showing him the map. I grinned at him. "Trust **no one**."

* * *

We gathered firewood quickly and headed back to the clearing. I was actually surprised to find them still there. They had already dug out a bunch of the energy bars as well as the sleeping bag, but nobody had laid claim to it yet. I lit a fire quickly and we all tried to forget about the last challenge for a few minutes. Owen was hard at work sticking a bunch of energy bars together. Meanwhile, I was resting comfortably against a tree, my eyes closed, comfortable for the time being.

"Hey! I smooshed the energy bars together into a big chewy ball!" Owen said joyfully. "Any takers?" He offered.

"No, but... I'll take your sleeping bag," Gwen asked, shivering. Owen downed the giant energy bar in one bite then handed Gwen the sleeping bag. As she wrapped it around herself, Owen fell to the ground and started snoring and Gwen nodded off peacefully.

As I lazed against the tree, watching the fire through nearly-closed eyes, Heather said, "I can't sleep. I'm too... scared," she said, using a voice that didn't sound like her at all. Then, to my surprise, she said, "Can I just..." then laid across my stomach. I had an automatic physical reaction to her laying there: a sudden wave of nausea so strong I'm surprised I didn't vomit. Just the thought of her touching me when I had been so certain for so long that she was the cause of my misery made me want to push her off of me. But I knew that my disgust was unfounded and, despite her mistreatment of the other campers, unfair, so I gave the nausea a second to pass and said, "Um... yea, sure."

"I feel so safe in your arms," she said, sugar-coated voice dripping with sweetness. I continued to look at her doubtfully, not believing her for a minute. "You won't fall asleep, right?"

I grinned, making a promise I didn't intend to keep. "Yup. You can count on it," I said.

She smiled, and said, "Okay. Well, then, thanks, Duncan."

"Mhm," I hummed, waiting for her to fall asleep and shut up.

* * *

Despite the fact that I **did** intend to sleep that night, promise to Heather or no promise, I found it really difficult to fall asleep with her laying on me like that. It was easy to forget that it was Heather, but nothing could make me think that it was Courtney, so I was uncomfortable all the while. I couldn't wait to see her. Even though I could function now, it was still painful not seeing her. Like I'd spent too long in the dark, and suddenly remembered the existence of the sun.

Slowly, with that image in my head, I fell asleep and had an odd dream that I couldn't remember when I woke up.

"Dude!" Owen shouted. I was barely dozing, awake but not. "Wake up!" I opened my eyes to see Owen looking panicked. "The fire! The girls! Our stuff! It's **gone**!"

"**What**?" I shouted, jumping to my feet. I checked under my shirt, hoping at least to see the map. I quickly realized that it was gone. My stomach sunk. "The map!" I growled in frustration, tempted to kick a tree. Ignoring the urge, I walked away from the nearest object, grumbling, "I can't believe I let myself get suckered by a chick!"

"Uh, two chicks," Owen pointed out. "What can I say? You're weak. You've succumbed to the primal urges of th—" Suddenly (and fortunately for him) he stopped talking. His nostrils flared as if he were sniffing. "...Do you smell that?"

Worried about the Sasquatch again, I looked around quickly. "What?"

"It's sweet," Owen said, sniffing. I lowered my guard. "And cinnamon-y. And, I've almost got it..." He gasped and looked away. "Sticky buns!" He turned and walked toward where the smell was apparently coming from and said, "Hold on, baby. I'm coming for ya." Then he took off.

Surprised, I followed after him. If he was right, and it was sticky buns he smelled, that must mean that one, we were finally heading towards camp and two, camp couldn't be that far away. Owen might have a good nose but not even a hound could smell sticky buns from too far away...

As we ran, I fell behind Owen, who was very determined to get to the sticky buns. As we ran, I heard a shout, "We made it!" and groaned, because it definitely wasn't Owen shouting.

I broke through the final clearing and saw that the girls still hadn't reached the totem pole. Then I saw Owen pass by them and I grinned. "Go for it, dude!" I ran full speed now, excited to join him at our victory over the girls...

And became immediately disappointed when he ran right by the totem pole, tore the tray of sticky buns out of Chef's hands and dumped them in his mouth while the girls tagged the totem pole. I stopped running in shock, instead walking leisurely up to him. No point in running now.

"No! Dude! We were so close! Why?" I asked, my voice full of longing.

He looked at me in surprise. "They were fresh from the oven," he pointed out, as if it were obvious.

Chef stood up, an angry expression on his face. He slapped the tray out of Owen's hand and yelled, "Those were mine! I was looking forward to those buns!" He crossed his arms and pouted. "Alright, game over. Girls win, guys lose."

I gave Owen a flat look and walked away. I had counted on us winning for me to stay in the game. Because I knew that if I lost, well... I just had to pray that the girls were merciful.

I wasn't counting on it.

* * *

Sighing, I knotted the drawstring on my bag and pulled it tight. I hadn't brought a whole lot of things with me to camp in the first place, so it didn't take long to pack, but I wanted to be sure it was done. I'd never worried enough about elimination to pack in the past, but I was absolutely certain I was going home today. The girls had no reason to vote for Owen. Once it was an all-out and votes didn't matter anymore, he wouldn't win. We wouldn't have won today even if Owen hadn't smelled the sticky buns. But that brief glimmer of hope I'd had when Owen surpassed the girls... that had been something. A quick flash of an image of me, a hundred thousand dollars richer, was a pretty sight.

Looking at my watch, I sighed. I had about an hour until the marshmallow ceremony, and I wanted to take a quick walk around the camp before I had to leave. So I put my bag by the door and walked out into the remaining rays of the day's sunshine.

I decided that the place I wanted most to see was the beach, so I headed over there and meandered slowly to the end of the dock. I took my Chucks off and dipped my feet in the water. It was really cold, but I didn't take them out. I just looked out over the lake and remembered when I first came here. All my first impressions and how they had all been so right but so wrong. Because even though everyone had that one side to them—the side they thought was so important to show—they all had other sides too. Gwen was angry and depressing sometimes... but she was also compassionate and thoughtful. I remembered, only days ago, how I was so depressed about my past, and she helped me. She got me through it, even though we weren't friends. We weren't anything more than competition, and yet she cared enough to help me out of a rough spot.

And Bridgette; my first impression of her was that she was a predictable, klutzy, airheaded surfer chick. It wasn't wrong, and yet, I was. Even though it was rare she showed that side to me, she was sweet and caring and a loyal friend, too. Like Geoff. I thought he was just some mindless party boy. And he was. But he was more.

And Courtney...

I smiled in disbelief. I could hardly believe that, when we all got here, I had thought that I would hate her. I expected her to be like my parents. And... like all my other first impressions, I was right. But she was different. She was crazy. She was beautiful.

And I missed her so much.

I took my feet out of the water and smiled as I put my shoes back on. '_Well..._' I thought complacently, shoving my hands in my pockets and smiling a lopsided smile. I walked down the dock, my head lowered, letting memories spill into my mind. '_It won't be much longer._'

* * *

I headed to the bonfire pit with the same lopsided smile I wore on the dock. I had cast my vote earlier. Obviously, I voted for Owen, just on the off chance Heather or Gwen decided to spare me. Not that I was holding out much hope. Not even that I really wanted to stay that much.

However, I wiped the smile off my face once the cameramen showed up. I may not care either way, but I at least had to pretend to care for the sake of my reputation. Gwen, Heather, Owen and Chef filed in shortly after me, and once the sun had completely set, the cameras rolled and we were on. It was time for my final performance before curtain call. I would be prepared.

The cameraman called, "Action!" and it began.

"**This**," Chef started angrily, pacing, his hands thrust in the air dramatically. I wondered if he was even really angry or if he was just showing off his authority for the camera. I wondered if he had ever gotten angry over the course of the show, or if he was just acting. Then I thought of Chris, and wondered if he had been acting the whole time too. Then I smiled, because this would be my final marshmallow ceremony, and Chris wasn't here to enjoy it. I almost wish he had been. Almost. Then I remembered that Chris wasn't who mattered right now. "Was supposed to be **my** day! I had it all planned! I was going to eat my sticky buns and relax with one of Heather's facials, but I finished reading Gwen's diary and cleaned my toenails. That reminds me, you need to sharpen this," he said, digging in his pocket. Then he threw something at me, and I gasped to see my pocket knife dirty and dull. I glared at him. He carried on. "Then I was gonna loot the rest of Owen's snack stash... But you all **ruined it**!" He glared, pointing at us. "So, here's your invinci-darn-bility," he exclaimed, digging in his other pocket and pulling out two marshmallows. He threw them to Gwen and Heather. Then he turned to me and Owen, and a creepy expression fell over his face.

This was it. My final moment. How would I react? I debated continuing my cold indifference, but realized that was boring. As the pause stretched on, I developed a glare, slowly. As his smile grew more pronounced, so did my scowl. He was doing this on purpose to tease the audience and make them wait in suspense, and I knew it, so I played along. I would give him the best scowl the world had ever seen, then I would make my bows and the curtain would close and that would be that. My life would return to the monotonous bore it had once been.

No. No, I didn't believe that. After everything that had happened, I didn't think my life would be boring any more. My scowl almost fell when I realized that everything had changed. My life had changed. I had changed. For the better or worse, I didn't know yet, but I could only hope.

I could only wait and see.

"You! Choke on this, glutton," Chef finally declared, throwing a marshmallow to Owen, which he caught in his mouth. Then he ran up to us and, pointing at me, happily exclaimed, "You're finished!"

I scoffed, prepared for this. "Good. Get me out of here and back to Juvie. At least with convicts you know what to expect." Then I stood and headed back to the cabins, smiling the whole way.

* * *

"Left. Left. Left, right, left," Chef sang, not following the pattern even though he was singing it. "Come on, soldier. Do I bear a striking resemblance to somebody who's got all day!"

Heather, Gwen and Owen were lined up, in that order, down the dock. As I passed Heather, she said, "What can I say? You could have rocked an alliance with me, but you blew it."

Gwen walked up next to me and said, "You played the game well. Sorry you had to lose over sticky buns." She smiled apologetically, and we pounded our fists. I smiled back, knowing that, whatever happened in the future, she and I would be tight. I wasn't sure if we were friends... but we weren't enemies and that was a fact that made my being voted off even less terrible than I had originally thought.

As I passed Owen, I paused, because he looked like he was about to say something. He stammered for a minute, and then belched in my face. It smelled like sticky buns.

"Whatever," I said finally. Then I carefully set my bag on the floor of the boat and climbed in. The boat took off. I chanced a quick glance backward to see the camp one last time, and I grinned. I didn't know what to expect in the future, but being here had definitely set a standard. I laughed as I realized that, no matter what happened, there wasn't a single summer in the future that would be more eventful than this one.

* * *

"Welcome, Duncan, to the Playa Des Losers," a familiar voice shouted at me. Squinting towards a dark figure on the dock in front of me, I recognized the voice as Chris'.

"Chris? What are you doing here? I thought you were hosting some fruity award show," I stated, crossing my arms.

He huffed. "Fruity? No. An award show? Yes." He paused a minute, probably trying to think of something to say, then changed his mind and said, "Come on. I have to show you to your room." I nodded, and followed him down the dock. As we walked, he made idle conversation. "So, Duncan. You just got voted off of Total Drama Island. How are you feeling?" He asked, glee evident in his voice.

I shrugged. "Whatever."

Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was pouting at my lack of interesting reaction. "Yea, well, that's why this place was set up. So you could relax and unwind and try to forget about how disappointed you must be over losing a hundred thousand dollars."

I chuckled. He was really trying to provoke me, huh? Well, I was beyond such childish measures. I knew that Courtney was here somewhere, and it took all I had not to run off into the unknown to look for her.

As we approached our destination, everything became clearer. We were heading towards a very tall hotel building. To my side, I could see a pool and lounge chairs. In front of me, I saw a pair of swinging glass doors, inside of which was a bright light and a lobby that could only be described as 'charming.' I looked at the elevators and headed over to them, but Chris grabbed my shoulder.

"Elevators are broke, dude. Gotta take the stairs," he grinned. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

We climbed at least ten flights of stairs before we stopped. We were both a little out of breath from the trek, but ignored it. He opened the door and led me onto a hallway that had at most three doors in it. I raised an eyebrow as he led me to the closest door. It had a gold plaque with my name on it. I chuckled, and he opened the door. I walked in and have to admit, I was impressed. It was one big room, but outfitted for everything I could possibly use it for. There was a big bed against the far wall, a small kitchen area to my side, and what I assumed was a bathroom through a door very far against the wall.

"This room covers half of the whole floor," Chris explained, standing by the door when I walked in and looked around. "This is your room. The other half is going to be the room of whoever gets kicked off next." Then he walked in and held out his hand, giving me something. "These are your card keys. Don't lose them. Your best bet would be to hide at least one around the door somewhere in case you lose the other one." I nodded. "Alright. Well, that seems to be everything. I'm sure you can get someone to show you around this place tomorrow. I'm heading back to the island. Good luck coping," he finished with a smirk, closing the door behind him on the way out.

I stood in my room, admiring it for a minute, before I realized that I had no idea where Courtney's room was. I ran back to the hall and shouted, "Hey, Chris!"

He was just about to the stairs, and he simply called, "Sixth floor." Then he opened the door and left. I was a little embarrassed to have been that predictable, but at the same time, I was glad I didn't actually have to ask.

I stood in the doorway for a few minutes debating. I wanted so strongly to go see her now, but I also realized that I hadn't showered since yesterday and had been running around in the clothes I was wearing since then. Changing my mind, I shut my door and flew to the bathroom, bringing my bag inside with me. I ran the shower, undressed as fast as possible, jumped in and scrubbed as quickly as I could. When I was clean, I turned the shower off, grabbed a towel, dried, dressed and ran.

Inside the stairway, the floors were numbered. I practically flew down the stairs, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. Would she be asleep? What time was it? Would she be happy to see me? Did she miss me? Did she still like me too? I tried not to think about the possibility that she had just been using me that whole time, but it crept into my thoughts all the same and made me slow down a little.

When I hit the sixth floor, I entered the hallway and walked to the first door. Examining the plaque, I saw that it read "Harold." Courtney's must have been the next one. I walked over to it quietly, in case she was awake and could hear me. I looked at the plaque on that door. In the same small block-print as the rest of ours, her name was carved into the gold. For a second, I couldn't breathe. Did I knock? What if she wasn't happy to see me? What if she was disappointed that I didn't win? What if she HAD been using me?

I must have stood outside her door for five minutes just thinking about all the possibilities. I bit my lip, nervous, because I knew how badly I wanted to see her. But did she want to see me?

The more I thought about it, the more impatient I got. I had to see her. It made my stomach sink to think that she might not be as excited as I was, but good reaction or bad, I had to see her, and it was with that train of thought that I stepped right up and knocked on the door. I heard a bed creak a little and soft footsteps approach.

And then she opened the door.

* * *

**A/N-2:** Okay. So, I have a couple announcements. I know this chapter is a happy one, and I'm sorry to be the one who ruins the tone of it with sad announcements, but there are going to be three more chapters (the reunion chapter, the final episode chapter and TDDDI) of this before I finish writing Total Duncan Anything for good.

Before you get mad and curse me to Hell for this, allow me to explain my reasoning. I started this story in October of 2008. It's now 2011. It took me more than two years to get to this point, and it's still not finished. I'm more than two seasons behind. And, given everything that's been going on in my life, it would be unfair of me to keep writing this fanfiction if I continue to make promises I have no idea when I'll deliver. I know I said I would write Total Duncan Action... but I can't. Maybe, someday, if I find myself with nothing but time on my hands, I will. But I'm not going to promise, because that's not right, and that's even more unfair than saying I can't, especially to all of you guys. You who have been the most loyal and wonderful of readers.

I'm sorry. I really am.

However, I'm not quite done writing yet. We **do** need to finish this series. Plus, Playa Des Courtney has been on hiatus longer than TDI, and once I finish here, I definitely intend to finish that. I may be terrible for not completing what I said I would complete, but I'm not going to just leave you with an unfinished story. It'll be a while. But I promise, sweet readers, that the only thing keeping me from finishing PDC is my untimely death (which I really hope does **not **happen).

One more note; to those of you who have been waiting patiently and endlessly for the return of the chapter, it is my sincerest wish that you enjoyed this chapter. This one was really personal for me. I don't know why, but I felt a real connection to this chapter. I actually finished it a couple days ago, but I kept it in my word processor and kept looking it over and tweaking it. I wanted Duncan's elimination to be perfect in every sense of the word, and I like how I wrote it, so I really hope you all did too.

I hope you're having a good 2011 so far, and I hope everyone had as wonderful holidays as I did.

Sincerely,  
melancolie.


	36. Playa des Losers

**A/N:** FINALLY an update. :P I'm going to keep this brief, but again, stick around at the end for a longer note about this chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Duncan!" I jumped up from my chair, wiping the drool off my chin. I looked up to see Courtney glaring down at me.

"What?" I asked defensively, grinning. She was pouting, her hands on her hips, weight on one leg, a small crease in between her eyebrows.

"You said you were going to play volleyball with Bridgette, Geoff and me," she sulked, lips pursed, still glaring.

I laughed. "Well, that **was** my intention. I fell asleep. Sorry," I apologized insincerely. I stood, stretched, and gestured towards the volleyball courts. "Lead the way, Princess."

Her face softened, and she took my hand. "Stop calling me that," she chided softly, intertwining our fingers, her hands cooling my warmer ones. It wasn't the first time she had said that since I arrived at the Playa des Losers, nor would it be the last, but it certainly warmed my heart as much as it did every time. Not that I would ever admit it, to her or to anyone else.

The corners of my mouth perked up just slightly. "What should I call you, then? Sweetheart? Babe? My dearest?" I asked the last one with just a touch of sarcasm.

"I think 'Courtney' would be sufficient," she said, her voice full of amusement.

I pretended to ponder for a second, using my free hand to stroke my beard. "Nah. Too impersonal." I grinned wickedly. "I like to think I know you a little bit better than that," I added suggestively, nudging her with my elbow. She blushed, took her hand away from mine and mock-pushed me.

"Shut up! I told you not to bring that up in public!" She said nervously.

"What was that? Bring it up in public whenever possible? Sounds good to me," I said, then cupped my hands around my mouth and said, "HEY EVERYONE—"

"**Duncan**!" She yelled, pulling my hands down, her face now beet red. I laughed.

"Relax, Courtney, I wasn't actually going to. You know I would never do that," I reasoned. She crossed her arms and looked away, pretending to pout. Or really pouting, I couldn't tell. I sighed, and walked in front of her, grabbing her shoulders softly. "Hey," I muttered. She wouldn't meet my gaze. '_Maybe she really **is** upset..._'

"Look at me," I said sternly. Her lips pursed further, and she squinted her eyes. I almost laughed. She looked like she was trying to be so fierce. I put my hand to her jaw and gently guided it to face me, and she finally looked me in the eye. "You know I would never tell anybody," I said seriously. "I was only kidding. If anybody had been around, I wouldn't have yelled, and you know that."

Her expression softened, but before she could say anything, I pressed a soft kiss on her lips. I dropped my arm from her shoulder, running my fingers down her arm until I met her hand, and I squeezed it before twining our fingers together again. I pulled my head back a little, and rested my forehead against hers, my eyes shut, just bookmarking the feeling of her hand in mine, her breath on my face, the smell of her skin. "I love you," I whispered, so quietly she could barely hear me.

"I love you, too."

I smiled, kissed her one more time, and said, "Now, let's go play some volleyball."

* * *

For the first two days and nights I had been at the Playa des Losers, Courtney and I had been inseparable. We were by each other's side constantly, only parting for minutes at a time. We ate meals together, swam together, played sports together. We even slept together; neither of us could handle parting for the night, regardless of the fact that we would both have been sleeping anyways. We ended up sleeping in my room both days; it was much more private on my floor since we were still waiting for the penultimate challenge as well as its loser. Not that either of us would have cared (or even noticed) much by the time we actually got into bed. But that's beside the point.

On the day of the next challenge, Courtney and I were eating breakfast when the topic of my elimination was brought up. I could tell it had been something she was eager to discuss, but she had been trying to be considerate of my feelings and didn't want to outright ask what had happened.

I laughed when she finally managed to blurt out her question. "How did I get eliminated? Well, the challenge was another 'get out of the woods before the other team' challenge, and I was paired with Owen." I frowned. "We almost won, too. He made it back before the girls did, but never tagged the totem pole. He just headed straight for the sticky buns Chef made." I rolled my eyes, still a little miffed about losing the challenge.

She nodded, taking it all in. "You don't seem so sad about getting eliminated, though," she observed.

I was taken aback. "Of course not. I was miserable on the island without you," I said, grabbing her hand for a minute before letting it go so we could both keep eating. She smiled slightly.

"Well, you've got Harold to thank for that."

I was about to take a bite of cereal, but put my spoon down. "Wait... what?"

Courtney looked up at me in surprise. "You mean, Chris didn't tell you? Or show you?"

"Show me what?" I asked, confused now. I had Harold to thank... for my being miserable without Courtney?

Courtney was visibly shocked. "Oh. Well, yeah. Harold's the one who rigged the votes and got me kicked off. I've been in touch with my lawyers about it, and they said..." She continued talking, but I had clocked out once she said 'rigged the votes.'

In that instant, my blood was boiling. Without another thought, I put my hands on the table and pushed my seat back so I could stand. I didn't need to see her face to know that Courtney's shock was now laced with concern. "Now wait just a minute, Duncan," she started, running in front of me, trying to keep me in place. "I—"

"No," I interrupted. "Don't tell me not to... You don't understand... you couldn't **possibly**... what that... what he... I..." Too angry to string my thoughts together, I put my arms on her shoulders and, being as careful as possible, moved her out of my way. It occurred to me that I didn't know where Harold was. "**Harold**!" I shouted. I started walking towards the hotel.

Courtney followed. "Duncan, listen to me!"

"Don't stop me, Courtney," I said fiercely, turning back to her. "That island was absolute **hell** after you left. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. For weeks, all I could think about was getting revenge on whoever voted you off. I almost gave up on so many challenges because that... that... that **slime** rigged the votes. And then, when I realized I hadn't put the note in the skull, I wanted to... I thought I would never see you again, that none of this had even mattered. So don't you tell **me** what to do and what not to do," I ranted before turning around and heading back.

"Would it make you feel better to know that I already got around to beating him up?"

I paused. "I beg your pardon?"

"I beat you to it," she said, obviously grateful that I'd stopped, at least for now.

I was understandably a little skeptical. Sure, Courtney was vengeful (and maybe a little too ambitious for her own good), but there's no way she could wreak the kind of havoc on Harold's skeletal system I could. "**You** beat Harold up?"

"Without even thinking about it," she answered unflinchingly.

I was impressed. I still wanted nothing more than to kick all the teeth out of Harold's mouth, but I could feel my fury start to dissipate. I let Courtney take my hand and lead me back to our seats. I sat down with a sigh. I picked up my spoon and tried to eat, but I wasn't hungry. Courtney noticed.

"Duncan," she said softly, grabbing my hand. "It's alright. I'm still mad, but I made my peace. And you're here now, so that's what really matters, right? I know it doesn't take away the past few weeks, but... it's over. It was in the past. We're together again, and that's what's important." She gave me a small smile.

I smiled back. That was probably the most heartfelt speech I'd ever heard her give. My heart picked up its pace just a little. I was still angry, but the anger was slowly being eclipsed by a different emotion, a stronger, much more pleasant emotion...

* * *

I did my best to avoid Harold at all costs. If I heard his voice, I got up and moved. If I saw him somewhere, I went somewhere else. The few times we had to be in the same place, I made sure to stay as far away from him as I could. But that didn't stop me from glaring daggers at him whenever he came into my line of sight. Courtney's presence normally helped; she would notice my expression and distract me with small talk, usually about the sorts of things she did on the Playa while I was still in the competition, or we'd talk about her friends back home, or about going home. It helped, a lot.

We still spent the nights together, only this time, I was adamant about sleeping in my room.

"There's no guarantee my subconscious mind won't wake me up, make me sleepwalk next door and strangle that idiot," I reasoned, my face and tone too serious to be serious. She laughed.

"It's not exactly as though I mind. Almost all of my stuff is up there at this point anyways," she agreed. I smiled. Then I frowned.

"Then again, I do have a new floor-mate. You sure you want to deal with that over Harold? I mean, yeah, the guy's annoying, but at least he doesn't spend all hours of the day and night shouting on the phone," I amended with a slight scowl.

Courtney laughed again. "Yeah, that's annoying, but it's not as though we ever really pay attention to her anyways."

That brought me up short. The fact that she even vaguely alluded to what went on at night was enough to shock me. I was shaken out of my shock by another laugh.

She smiled. "It's fine, Duncan. We'll stick to your room. Goodness knows we don't need a reason for you to subconsciously attack anyone." Then she stood up, stuck her tongue out at me, and walked away.

I stayed where I was sitting, just watching her walk away. I couldn't tell what my expression was, but I was hoping it wasn't reflecting what I felt inside or else I would have a lot of damage control to do for my reputation...

* * *

Looking back on it, the time I spent with Courtney on the Playa des Losers was the best of my life. I was having fun, I was relaxed, but most importantly, I was happy. And, because nothing seems to please me more than sabotaging my own happiness, I screwed it all up.

But that's another story, for another time.

For the time being, I was nothing short of blissful on the Playa des Losers. By day, I was outside in the sun, playing volleyball or going swimming or walking or even just lounging in the chairs by the pool. By night, Courtney and I were together, getting up to all sorts of business, none of which is any of anyone else's. I was happy. For the first and possibly the last time of my life.

I was in love. For the first and the last time of my life.

* * *

**A/N 2:** Hey, guys. I know, I know, you're all angry with me for taking so long and then, when I finally DO update, it's this dinky little chapter. But please, hold your stones and rocks a moment so I can explain.  
I kept this one short because, primarily, I didn't have a whole lot of time to write it. I do apologize, and I told myself I wouldn't make excuses, but there it is. And I know you're all angry because it has literally been months since I updated last, so wtf am I talking about, not having time. Well, there's an explanation for that: School, first. The semester finally ended, hence this chapter. I got a job, so I've been working a lot. This job sucks, so I've been spending a lot of time searching for a new job. Among other things, like making sure my friends in-real-life don't think I'm neglecting them.

So there's that.

Now, one more thing before I let you go. This is actually the real reason I wrote this note.

There are two more chapters after this. There's the final challenge chapter and the TDDDI chapter. And then I'm finished with this series. Like I said last chapter, there's still Playa des Courtney, which I swear will be finished at some point, barring unforeseen circumstances.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I will try my hardest to get the last two chapters written before it turns into a three year venture. :'I


	37. The Very Last Chapter, Really!

**AN:** And with this chapter, I say farewell to TDI. All that's left now is Total Drama Drama Drama Island, and then, so long. I'm going to leave this short, because it has quite literally been months since I last updated, so I'll let you get to reading, but like with the last few chapters, there'll be another note at the end.

With that said, enjoy the very last chapter of Total Duncan Island!

* * *

I leaned over the railing and watched the bow of the boat cut through the easy waves. I felt like there was a metaphor in there somewhere, but I was far too relaxed to think of it. Thinking about it, I really shouldn't have been so relaxed considering where the boat was headed, but I suppose heading back to the island for the purpose of spectating instead of participating made our return to Camp Wawanakwa ten times less stressful. I squeezed Courtney's hand, and smiled at her. She smiled back, and I figured she was probably feeling the same way I did.

I looked around the deck of the boat at everybody, not surprised by what I saw. Heather was pouting, surrounded by Lindsay and Beth who were chatting animatedly about who they wanted to win. Bridgette and Geoff were, as usual, making out in a corner. Katie and Sadie were sitting in the opposite corner gushing over Justin, who was staring at himself in a mirror in between the two. Harold, Noah, Cody (now completely bandage-free), and Ezekiel were all sitting, scattered, not talking to anybody. Eva and Trent were talking about music (something they found they shared tastes in), and Izzy was talking LeShawna's ear off, seemingly to her dismay. I laughed. DJ and Tyler walked up to the deck from what seemed to be the kitchen, because they came bearing snacks. I wasn't hungry, but waited patiently as Courtney grabbed one for herself. Dear God, I loved her. We'd known each other for eight weeks—eight short weeks—and already I couldn't imagine my life without her. It was incredibly cheesy, but I felt like she completed me. She was my missing piece.

Before I could dwell too much on my mushier feelings, we arrived at camp, and were instructed to wait off-camera. Chris (who was standing a few yards away talking to Owen and Gwen) would introduce us, and then we would sit in one of the two sets of bleachers behind them. Whichever one we sat in would decide who we wanted to support. Courtney and I exchanged a look. We had discussed it between ourselves several times, and had come to the conclusion that we wanted Owen to win. Not because we liked Owen better than Gwen, or because he was better-equipped to win. No, we wanted him to win because he was the least manipulative, kindest, and friendliest person. He had conducted himself the most honestly, and for that, the guy deserved props.

And before I knew it, we were being called on-stage. "Now, it's time to welcome the twenty campers who did not make it to the finals."

"Hey, guys!" Owen called happily, waving at us all. "Good to see you!"

"Would everyone who's walked the Dock of Shame, and left camp on the Boat of Losers kindly take a seat in the Peanut Gallery of Failure," Chris announced, cheerfully and insultingly as always. "The side you choose should represent who you would like to cheer on to victory in today's final competition."

Courtney and I were joined on Owen's side by Geoff (who sat to my right, unaccompanied by Bridgette to my surprise), Noah, Beth, Tyler, Ezekiel, Harold, Izzy, and, not shockingly, Heather, who, in the wake of her accident with the electric razor, was wearing the poorest excuse for a wig any of us had ever seen. Gwen noticed, chuckled, and said, "Nice rug."

"Oh, bite me," Heather scowled, swatting away Izzy's curious hands. "Stop touching my hair, Crazy Girl!"

Owen and Gwen had a short conversation with each other before Chris interrupted. "Gwen, Owen, this is your chance to tell the Peanut Gallery of Failure what you would do with the money if you won, and why you deserve it." He looked at Gwen, who went first.

"Well, I guess I'm pretty proud of getting this far. I mean, maybe if I can survive here, the rest of high school won't be so bad." At this, Izzy burst out into laughter before quickly shutting up and apologizing. "Well, I'm always good for my word, and I did promise to split my hundred grand with Owen. But that would still leave me a ton of cash. I guess I'd go travelling, and then to university to study art history."

LeShawna and Trent both applauded her, and Chris said, "Wow. That's really sweet. Boring, but sweet. Owen?"

He took a moment to think it over, then said, "I'd throw the biggest, hugest, sickest party ever! And invite everyone here! Oh yeah!" He said, raising his arms victoriously. All of us on Owen's side immediately cheered, and several people from Gwen's side moved over to Owen's side.

Gwen looked back at the people on her side and said, "At least not all of you are total sell-outs."

"Oh, oh! And I forgot! It'll be on a yacht!" Owen added happily. At this, Lindsay grudgingly switched to Owen's side as well, looking guilty.

"Nice," Gwen commented.

"Alright!" Chris said, oblivious as always to what was going on with the campers. "It's time for the final challenge: the rejected Olympic relay race! Each of the three parts was pitched to the committee, but sadly rejected as an Olympic sport. First, each of you has to put on one of these," he said, taking a cow hat and a chicken hat from someone off-camera.

Looking at her hat, Gwen scathingly said, "I think it's clear why **this** event wasn't accepted."

"Dressed as a cow and a chicken," Chris continued, "Run to the first location and shimmy up the pole to retrieve your flag. If you don't have the flag, don't bother coming down off that pole."

"Ooh, that's gonna be tough for the big guy," Geoff pointed out.

"Next, you will cross the 300-meter balance beam, suspended across a giant gorge, while carrying an eagle's egg."

"Oh." Owen said quietly, with false optimism. "Is that all?"

"No," Chris said obviously. "Below, your friends, the rare-but-real, man-eating freshwater sharks!"

"You had to ask," Gwen said, frowning.

"The final leg of the race is a long-distance run, returning to the finish line here. First camper to arrive, wins."

"Good luck, Owen. If I had to lose to anyone here, it'd be you," Gwen said with a smile, putting on her hat.

"Aw, that's so nice. I hope you lose to me, too!" Owen joked.

"Yeah, go Owen! We want to party!" Geoff shouted.

"You're gonna get one!" Owen said, pointing at us on his side of the peanut gallery.

Then we all cheered again, and the race began.

* * *

Several people ran after Owen and Gwen, but the majority of us waited in the peanut gallery. Largely, it was pretty boring. Though it was at a distance, we could see the entire race from where we were sitting, so following them if we weren't terribly invested would have been pointless.

"I am curious, though, as to why they'd be carrying eagle's eggs across the gorge," Courtney said at one point. I looked at her, and her eyebrows were furrowed. I stood, and held out my hand for her to take, and without saying anything, we walked over to the gorge. By the time we got there, Gwen and Owen had just made it. Trent, who had decided to run the race with Gwen, was standing next to Chef and Chris, and we made it just in time to hear him ask, "What are the eggs for?"

Chef and Chris chuckled menacingly, and Chef said, "Oh, you'll see."

Owen caught up at last, followed by Heather, Izzy and Geoff. Heather had a few words with Owen, and just as Owen was about to begin his trek across, Gwen started to tip precariously. Her fear was evident in her eyes, but she carefully regained her balance with a few words of encouragement from Trent.

Then Owen began, and instead of stepping across, he attempted to slowly shuffle across. Just as he had caught up to Gwen, we heard a strange shrieking sound, and suddenly, out of nowhere, several eagles flew by overhead, and dive bombed Gwen and Owen. The inclusion of the eggs was suddenly explained.

"Angry eagle parents?" Chris said, looking at me with a smug look.

"Oh, snap, that is messed up," I congratulated, giving him a high-five. He walked forward to stand next to Chef and they continued to commentate on the event.

"What, you mean you like watching this? They could die," Courtney said fearfully.

"Aw, mellow your yellow, babe, this is awesome TV," I explained.

"Why would I want to watch Gwen and Owen risk their lives?" She asked.

"This is life at its most raw," I explained, looking over at the competitors. "Check out Elvis here with his guitar," I said, gesturing at Trent. "One misstep, and his girlfriend is shark bait. Now, that would make for an interesting song," I finished, crossing my arms, smiling.

It really said something for how we communicated that she understood the deeper meaning behind my words. It wasn't so much that I was amused by the inherent danger here, but by the emotions. The fear and desperation to get across was an affirmation of their mortality. At any second, they could die. How was that for necessity?

It seemed that she understood completely, because without warning, she pulled me into a kiss. Shocked, I barely had time to react before she pulled back. "You're still not my type," she said, giving me a look that said all-too-plainly that she didn't care.

"You make me sick," I said, which translated to 'I don't care either.' Then she kissed me again, and I couldn't care about anything.

* * *

By the time we pulled apart, Gwen and Owen had successfully crossed the gorge and began their long-distance run. Deciding that a run would be a fun way to finish our experience on the island, we joined Geoff, Heather and Izzy in running after Owen. We were about a quarter of the way back before Owen stopped, and clutched at his lower back. "Oh, no! Quick, quick, where's the bathroom out here?" Seeing a Confession Cam a short distance away, he made a beeline for it and ran to it faster than he had been running before, passing Gwen on his way. We chased after him.

"Owen, no! Not in the Confession Cam!" Chris shouted in distress.

Heather marched up next to Chris and shouted, "What is going on here?"

"Try to avoid the confession booth for a while," Gwen said, passing Heather with a smile, followed by Trent, LeShawna and Cody, who were shouting more encouragement after her.

* * *

Geoff, Izzy, Courtney and I ran back to the peanut gallery to wait for Owen to finish in the confessional. Everyone who had been sitting in the peanut gallery seemed to have disappeared, though Chris explained that they had gone with Chef to get drinks from the Mess hall. Courtney and I sat off to another side, and I honestly couldn't care less who won at that point. Izzy, Lindsay, and Geoff were all plotting, and disbanded momentarily to get the things they needed for their plan. Everyone came back, and when they arrived, everyone sat on one side in order to better see Owen and Gwen approach. From our spot off to the side, Bridgette waved to us to come join her.

Bridgette and I, though we had never quite gotten along, had grown to tolerate each other. She eventually came to realize that my feelings towards Courtney were sincere, and I realized that she was just worried about her friend. So, with that in mind, I stood and followed Courtney, who sat on one side of Bridgette. I sat on her other side. And there, we sat and waited.

For about ten minutes, all was silent. Everybody was sitting in anticipation, waiting to see who would win. Suddenly, from a great distance, we could see two figures approaching—one with unmistakeable turquoise hair, the other with very dark hair, carrying something awkwardly shaped. Gwen was on her way.

Shortly after Gwen came into view, Owen joined her, moving much more slowly.

"There they are," Chris said proudly. "Two real competitors, and if I may say, truly personifying the spirit of the reject Olympics."

Trent, who seemed to be carrying a boulder, stopped running, and Owen caught up with him before falling to the ground, and crawling slowly forward. Trent soon joined him on the ground, crawling and rolling his rock after Owen. Everyone on Gwen's side started cheering (so, LeShawna, Eva and Cody started cheering), and I rolled my eyes in irritation.

Then Izzy came out from behind the bleachers, carrying a plate of fresh brownies. Lindsay followed her shortly with a large fan, and after a comical accident involving the fan blowing Heather's wig off her head (after which LeShawna bodily picked her up and carried her off), Lindsay turned the fan so that the scent from the brownies would blow towards the competitors—namely, Owen.

It took a good minute before there was any effect, but when Owen picked up his head at the scent, I knew Gwen no longer stood a chance. Owen barrelled forward faster than I had ever seen anyone of any size move. He moved so swiftly that Gwen hadn't had time to move out of the way, and he mowed her down. She hit the ground hard just as Owen was crossing the finish line. We all on Owen's side began to cheer loudly and victoriously. Gwen looked at the ground disappointedly, and Trent went to comfort her.

On my part, I felt pretty good. I was happy for Owen. The guy deserved to win, and I patted him on the back happily before walking off to join Courtney, Katie, Sadie, and Justin, none of whom were close to Owen and wanted to offer their congratulations before letting him celebrate with the people he was closer to.

Over where they were standing, I watched Trent pick Gwen up, and they were laughing, and I smiled. Owen rushed over to them, and they had a quick conversation that I couldn't hear from where I was, but he looked pretty happy too. He then started marching around with his arms up victoriously, and I laughed, shaking my head.

* * *

"Here we are, at the last bonfire ever," Chris began. "After eight brutal weeks, it is my pleasure to announce the winner of Total Drama Island: Owen!" We all cheered and applauded as Owen stood up and walked over to join Chris, smiling broadly.

Chris handed him a giant check, and Owen shouted, "Yeah, baby!" He set the check down and said, "What can I say, Chris? I'm so psyched! This is just—"

"Awesome?" Everybody shouted, predicting his next word.

"Yes!" He shouted, laughing. "Party next week, everyone!" Everybody cheered again until Chris interrupted.

"Owen, at this time, I give you the ultimate symbol of survival: the final marshmallow," Chris said, handing him a single marshmallow.

"I'll treasure it for the rest of my life," Owen said seriously. Then a sceptical look crossed his face and he said, "Oh, screw it. I can buy all the marshmallows I want now!" Then he threw it up in the air and caught it in his mouth.

"Yo, Owen, know what it's time for?" Geoff asked, grinning maliciously. I knew what this was; we had discussed it earlier over dinner. Owen nodded with a small smile, then looked at Chris devilishly. Chris suddenly looked apprehensive, and Geoff and I stood and walked over. We all grabbed one of Chris' limbs and lifted him easily. He squirmed in an attempt to break free, but our grip on him was strong. We carried him down towards the docks, followed by almost all of the other campers, and he protested all the way.

"Guys, no! Dudes. Stop. What are you doing? Put me down! No, dudes, my hair, come on!"

We got to the edge of the docks, and to much cheering, shouted, "One! Two! Three!" then tossed Chris in the water. He resurfaced looking very put out. We all laughed at finally having gotten our revenge.

"I've been wanting to do that all summer!" Chef shouted, his expression gleeful. "How do you like that, pretty boy? Haha!"

We all surrounded Chef, arms crossed, expressions smug.

"Oh, Chef?" Geoff called softly in a sing-song voice.

"You're next, dude!" Owen said. A brief look of panic crossed Chef's face, and he ran off. We chased after him, laughing all the while.

* * *

On the boat trip back to the Playa Des Losers, everyone's mood was subdued. We were all very happy, but very tired. Owen, Geoff, and I had chased Chef halfway around the island before we'd caught him and tossed him off the docks, and then we had fun catching other campers and tossing them over. In the end, nobody had been spared, and so everyone was soaked. I had taken special pleasure in tossing Courtney over. She had been talking to Bridgette, and I snuck up on her. Bridgette had seen me, but thankfully kept quiet. I grabbed her around the middle and hoisted her over my shoulder. She hit me on the back all the way down, demanding I let her go, but I just smiled and teased, "Ah, ah, ah. It's tradition, Princess." Then I shook my head and covered her in water, having just gotten out myself.

Bridgette followed us all the way down, laughing, until she had gotten snuck up on by Geoff, who followed my lead. Geoff and I exchanged looks once we got down to the docks, and again swung our captives and shouted, "One! Two! Three!"

Laughing and exchanging a high-five, we didn't notice them climb out of the water and drag us in, and we all resurfaced, laughing. Of all my memories on the island, I was certain that this one would be my favourite.

Courtney grabbed my hand and leaned into my chest. I rubbed her arm—she was covered in goose bumps, and I felt a bit guilty for throwing her in, she was freezing. She buried her face in my shoulder, and I felt her smile, and suddenly, I didn't feel so bad.

* * *

When we got back to the Playa Des Losers, we all grudgingly marched up the steps and disbanded, two at a time, each heading to our rooms. Chris and Chef followed, leading Gwen and Owen to their rooms before going to their own rooms on the very top floor. When we reached Courtney's floor, she squeezed my hand. She would be up on my floor just as soon as she had showered, I knew that. She even had my spare room key. Besides, I was looking forward to a few minutes by myself anyways.

When I got to my room, the first thing I did was strip off my wet clothes. Not caring much about them, I tossed them in a messy pile in the corner, knowing that Courtney would scold me for them as soon as she got here. If I were to be honest, I enjoyed Courtney scolding me, though that wasn't shocking. There was very little that Courtney did that I didn't like.

I took a very quick shower, looking forward to lying down and waiting for Courtney. Not bothering to put on a shirt, I threw on a pair of baggy sweatpants and threw myself across my bed. Now was not a time for worrying. Now was a time to reflect.

It had been a very long, very emotional summer. I remembered when I first signed up for the show that it had been only with the intent of getting out of Juvie for a while, and hanging out with other kids my age who didn't look at me like I was a lesser being like the kids at school did. I had never really expected to enjoy myself. I had never expected to change so much. And I had never expected, not in my wildest dreams, to fall in love like I did. But I didn't regret it for a moment.

If I had to say, I would say that it was easily the best summer of my life. I had grown up, and I found a reason to stop being the bad guy and start being me again. I couldn't wait to go home and see my parents. I was really looking forward to showing them how much I had changed. I wanted to be their son again. I wanted them to see that there was something in me they could be proud of. I wanted them to know that I wasn't a monster. Not anymore.

And I had Courtney to thank for that. She had brought about this change in me more than anything or anyone else had. I would have gone this whole summer without changing a single thing if she hadn't shown me that there was nothing good about me. But there she was, this perfect, prissy, goody-two-shoes who deserved better than what I had been. I needed to deserve her, and in that way, she had changed me. I felt so grateful and so in love that my chest hurt, and I was suddenly very impatient to see her.

On that note, I heard her approach the door, and I stood and walked over to it. I couldn't wait. I had to see her and to thank her for everything, right now. She fiddled with the key card, but before she had time to swipe it, I opened the door and pulled her into a tight hug. She hugged back, though I was certain it was mostly out of shock.

"I love you," I whispered in her ear. "Do you know that? I love you. You're the most beautiful person in the world, and I love you."

She chuckled silently, and I felt her breath on my neck. "I love you too. But what's with this all of a sudden?"

I kissed the side of her head and said, "You have no idea how grateful I am to know you. If I hadn't met you—if you hadn't been here this summer, I'd still be the same little hellion I was before. But you—I had to change. To deserve you. I'm just... you changed me for the better, and I... Thank you," I stammered, hugging her closer. "I love you."

I think she was shocked by what I had to say, because she didn't say anything for a while. We stood there in silence for a long time. I could have stood there forever. I wish I had. At that moment, I was more content than I had ever been in my entire life. That she wanted to be with me—that she loved me as much as I loved her—was something I would never understand. But as I pulled back and led her into my room, I realized that I didn't need to understand. Because no matter what was done or said, no matter whether I understood it or I didn't, I loved her, and she loved me. And that was good enough for me.

* * *

**AN2:** Aaaaand, it's over! -throws hands in the air victoriously, dropping confetti everywhere- I can't believe it's taken me upwards of three years to finish this, though now that it's over, I can't help but feel proud. This is the very first many-chapter story I have ever finished, ever. I am... understandably shocked and happy and... all sorts of crazy emotions.

But mostly, I'm grateful. Because, though it has taken me more than three years to finish it, no matter how long it took me to get a chapter out, you, my faithful readers, have stuck with me and continued reading. Long chapter or short, good writing or God-awful, you've stuck by me and carried on with me until the very end. So, to those of you who've read every chapter throughout this long and crazy venture, thank you. You are the reason I even finished this. From the bottom of my heart all the way to the very top, thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't think there are enough words to properly express how grateful I am to you readers. Thank you.

And of course, for all the thanks given to the readers, double thanks to you reviewers. There's something flattering in knowing that my stories are being read, but there's something touching in knowing that they're being enjoyed. So to those of you who commented on even one chapter, thank you most of all.

I also want to thank everyone who made Total Drama Island possible. This show has brought me happiness and entertainment and enjoyment, so, though they'll never read this, to everyone involved in Total Drama Island, thank you.

Last but not least: As promised, I do still intend to write TDDDI, but it's not going to be included here. It'll be a one-shot, separately titled, so if you really want to read it, just keep checking back (though there's no saying when that'll be published) on my page, or else Author Subscribe me.

Again, all the thanks to every single one of you who has read and/or reviewed even a single chapter of this fic. Seriously. Thank you. I hope that you've enjoyed Total Duncan Island as much as I enjoyed writing it.

And I think that just about does it. :)


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